


End Game (The Lion and the Mage)

by Genuinelies, Mishafied



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: A Lot of Plot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Complete, Happy Ending, M/M, Plot, long!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 280,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7413988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genuinelies/pseuds/Genuinelies, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mishafied/pseuds/Mishafied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This begins after the events of the movie and delves into the efforts to stop Gul'dan and the invasion of the Horde, while exploring Anduin and Khadgar's relationship with one another and their new positions in Azeroth. Liontrust RP that reads like a story.</p><p>Now complete!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Installment

**Author's Note:**

> Genuinelies is Anduin Lothar  
> Mishafied is Khadgar
> 
> GL: This is the result of staying up until 3 a.m. and posting nonstop. I may be hallucinating. Misha’s brilliant plot twists are why this sucker is now over 200 pages long and still growing. We’ll be posting in installments ☺
> 
> Also...it does turn explicit later. Just not in this first part. 
> 
> We are both WoW players so there's some geekery thrown in here, but it is NOT canon, does not begin to remain strict to canon, please note this is not canon.
> 
> Misha: 1. We're diverging from canon pretty much straight off the bat, and 2. Neither of us are hugely into the lore, so don't expect the storyline to be lore accurate.
> 
> In Part One: 
> 
> Khadgar is plucky and bites off more than he can chew; Lothar pulls all the mobs.

As Anduin Lothar descended on his gryphon from the sky, it became quickly apparent how the landscape around Karazhan had been decimated by Khadgar's cleansing of Medivh. The small hairs on the back of his neck prickled as he took in the desolation, trees bare of their leaves, the ground dead and dusty. Plus, the spiders. By the Light, the spiders.

He had left Stormwind to check up on the mage as quickly as he was able, because the look in Khadgar's brown eyes as he'd handed him the sword of his dead friend had held secrets. On principle, he didn't like secrets. Not in enemies, but more so not in friends.

Then there was the wild rush of worry whenever he thought of the younger man alone at Karazhan. He didn't have any fear that the fel resided in him, not really. He'd seen the way that his eyes had glowed brightly with clear, bright blue light, even in the midst of the felstorm released from Medivh. What he worried about was the mage getting into trouble without him. Yes, it had mostly been Khadgar to save Azeroth from the demon, but he wasn't humble enough to ignore that the mage probably would have been dead if he'd made a different choice in the barracks.

What was he doing here by himself, anyway? Why hadn't he taken a guard? Logically, he knew it was dangerous to leave a place like the tower untended, but even the last Guardian had had Moroes.

Lothar hopped off his gryphon and sent it into the air with a scratch on its beak.

"Khadgar?" He called. "Kid?"

Kid, that was laughable. It kept the other man safely defined in his mind, however.

#

Khadgar felt like he'd been in the tower for years, when in fact it had been weeks at the very most. The first order of business—setting up wards to keep the worst of the contamination isolated, and to protect the area where he would be mostly living and working.

There were dangerous things here, after all. The whole land had been corrupted when he'd basically caused an explosion of fel energy to destroy and scatter it; but it was either corrupt the land, or lose himself and Lothar to the demon. Lose the whole of Azeroth to the fel.

One castle was a small price to pay.

He murmured an incantation as he read, brow furrowed in thought as he tried to make sense of the ancient language in the tome at hand. The first order of business, and possibly the most difficult—figuring out how to close the doorways Medivh had left open. The longer they were open, the more dangerous things would get.

He hadn't been sleeping well or eating much since he discovered just how deep the corruption ran here.

He suddenly felt something in the back of his mind—something tripped his outer wards around the castle. Something alive. He stood and went quickly to the upper flight platform, hesitating before opening the door to the outside, one hand ready to cast a spell if the intruder was unfriendly.

"Lothar!" he said, his expression brightening and his tone surprised as the glow faded from his hand and his eyes. "How have you been?"

#

Lothar was relieved to see a spark of blue and hear the friendly tone. "You made a mess out here."

He squinted at Khadgar. He seemed well enough, he supposed. Perhaps a little frazzled. Perhaps he hadn't been sleeping. It didn't do anything to dull the youthful, soft lines of his face. Lothar smiled at him. There would be time enough to harass him about rest and sleep later. For now, he was just happy to see him alive and well.

It didn't overwrite the unrest he felt from returning to the tower, however. The last time he'd been there, a giant demon had sprouted from one of his dearest friends. He wouldn't have been human if the location left him perfectly at ease.

#

Khadgar flushed a little, looking back at the darkened, worn facade of the once majestic castle. "Haven't had much time to dust," he pointed out with a halfhearted shrug and a tired smile. He felt a chill go up his spine, the feeling he always got when something was testing his defenses.

"Speaking of a mess, this...probably isn't the safest place to be right now. Come on," he said, turning and leading the way to the door. As soon as Lothar followed him in, he closed the door behind them and spoke a few words, pressing his hand to the door. A soft glow came over it for a moment before fading to nothing.

"I have wards up all over the castle, but I can't maintain them all at full strength. I stay where the strongest wards are, mostly," he explained, even his voice tired, though he tried to hide it. "The corruption here...it runs deep."

#

Lothar had narrowed his eyes at Khadgar's back, not missing the tired note in his voice. At his words, though, he sent an alarmed look around the room. "The fel? Is it still here?"

He had the sense of being watched, but he told himself it was just his mind playing tricks on him in the drafty stone building. He'd been there many times, but he'd never quite gotten used to the way his voice echoed or the way he thought he saw things that weren't ever there. Moroes, in fact, used to tease him for his jumpiness.

He swallowed past the sudden tightening of his throat. He turned his head sideways, inspecting Khadgar while he could. "Can we get out again if we need to?"

 _Was this a trap,_ was what he meant to say, but there really wasn't a good way of asking that.

#

"We can go in and out unimpeded. The only things stopped by the wards are those with fel influence," Khadgar said, and then his expression darkened a little. "I wanted to...plan for the worst. If I was influenced myself, it would delay my own escape."

He sighed softly and ran his fingers through his hair. "The fel isn't just still here. It's still being gathered," he explained. "Medivh had channels in place, he...you know what, it would be easier if I showed you."

He'd only done this spell once before, when he originally discovered what was happening, and it wasn't easy to perform—but Lothar needed to know just how deep the problem ran. He began gathering his energy, focusing it, and his eyes glowed bright with the arcane as runes sprang to life around his feet.

" _Andu lo tor adore_ ," he chanted, the words smooth and strong. He reached out to the pathways tinged with fel, taking hold, preparing to unleash his own magic. " _Athala dor nei!_ "

He focused the energy down, all at once, and his own bright blue magic forced through the conduits Medivh had left open. Blue mixed with green as he pathways lit up through the walls and floor, and though only this room could be seen, it was obvious those fel paths ran from deep in the ground all the way up to the tower.

"These conduits were never closed," he said, his voice strained as he kept the conduits lit so Lothar could see them. "I've been trying to find a way to close them, but this magic...it's not of Azeroth. If I use the wrong spell, it could backfire—"

He couldn't hold any longer. Between keeping the wards up and all the research he'd been doing, he was exhausted; he stumbled and braced one hand against the wall, fighting off the brief dizziness, the light in his eyes fading along with the lit pathways on the walls. 

#

As always when Khadgar did magic, Lothar stared in fascination at the light that seemed to come from within him. He wasn't even aware of the look of awe in his own eyes. 

The green lines on the floor, though, were another matter. Lothar picked up his feet in a little panicked dance, trying to get away from the fel. When Khadgar suddenly tipped sideways and the sickly glow faded, he reached out almost reflexively, steadying the younger man with a hand on his back. His eyes were intense on Khadgar's face. "Influenced? Do you mean you could be taken over like Medivh?"

He wished, at that moment, that he could simply pick the kid up, throw him on his gryphon and fly back to Stormwind, away from that cursed place. As it was, leaving any trace of the fel to threaten Karazhan was not an option.

Neither, however, was losing Khadgar to these alien forces. His chest tightened with the memory of seeing green taint his friend's brown eyes. Watching Khadgar battle the fel as he was once again encased in magic, rendered helpless, was sickeningly like the moment he stood idly by as his son was run through by a monster. He had taunted the demon, saying he had nothing left to live for, but in a single breath he'd been proven wrong. He realized in that moment that he would do anything, anything, if he could only stop the corruption from taking the young man as it had taken Medivh.

Despite that, he wasn't willing to think on what the mage meant to him any further than _comrade, Guardian, ally_ , because Garona's betrayal had been the final turn of a key in a rusted lock. He had trusted her, and because of that his dearest friend and king was dead. He had lost his wife. He had lost his son. He had lost Medivh. Every time he thought of truly letting someone close to him again, he felt as though he was running shards of glass through his soul. 

Now Khadgar was saying that it might not be over? That what they had done hadn't been enough?

His grip on Khadgar's tunic tightened.

"Why haven't you sent for help?" He demanded.

#

"It corrupted Medivh. I don't want to take any chances," Khadgar pointed out. He didn't mention how powerful the fel had been in those brief moments that it tried to sway him; he didn't even want to think about it. It made him feel slightly ill to remember that kind of power and _fire_ coursing through him like a flood. 

He tried to straighten up and remove his hand from the wall, though he leaned into Lothar's steadying presence more than he would have liked. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, not after finding a promising set of books, and it was taking its toll. "I didn't send for help because I've been able to handle things out here. As long as I keep the wards up, it's...relatively safe," he insisted, though not with as much conviction as he'd hoped. 

It had been tough out here, yes, but everyone had their own responsibilities—and this was Khadgar's. It was largely his fault the castle was in the condition it was, and he felt like it was his job to fix it.

Realistically, he knew that was a little silly—that it had been Medivh and the demon mostly at fault, and he'd done what he had to do to save Azeroth—but it was one thing to tell himself that, and another thing entirely to believe it. 

#

Lothar gritted his teeth. "Right. Of course you have." He couldn't help the little shake he gave the mage before releasing him from his grasp.

The warrior paced the room, peering into corners to see if he could see any threats or any more of the fel lurking in the corners. He whirled back toward Khadgar. "Where are the Kirin Tor? Shouldn't they be helping you clean up out here?"

He knew it was a sore spot with the younger man, but he was angry with them too for what they hadn't done and couldn't bite back the jab. It seemed as though they could have helped sooner with Medivh, if they'd only been paying attention. 

If he could have guessed what a visit to Karazhan would entail, he thought dryly to himself, this wouldn't be far off. A headache and a frustrating conversation, and even more worry. 

He had seen what Khadgar was capable of, and he trusted him as much as he could anyone at that point. If anyone could fix what Medivh had wrought it was Azeroth's new Guardian.

It didn't sit right with him, though, that he was taking the task on alone. 

#

Khadgar flushed a little. The Kirin Tor had requested his presence—a few times, actually—and each time, he had declined and insisted that he needed to remain at Karazhan.

It was partly true. The other part, though, was him desperately avoiding the inevitable politics that came from him inheriting the title of Guardian.

He hadn't asked for it. He didn't even think he was ready. But it wasn't the kind of thing you chose—the Guardian was an inherited title, and he'd been next in line, renounced vows or not.

"The Kirin Tor are...only partially aware of the condition of Karazhan," he admitted. "I wanted to ensure that I knew the full scale of the problem before I involved them. Otherwise they would ask a lot of questions I don't have answers for, and that would...complicate things."

That, and honestly, he didn't trust them. He had a hard time trusting anyone, after what happened to Medivh. It was ironic, since Medivh's last words had been a warning against isolating himself, and here he was doing just that.

He kept telling himself he had an excuse, but the words felt hollow. 

Feeling a bit steadier on his feet now, he straightened up and took in a deep breath. "I know what needs to be done, I just...need to figure out how to do it safely."

#

"Mm," Lothar said, leaning against the wall to level a piercing look toward the mage. "And how will you be sure it's safe, spell-chucker?"

The slight pink on Khadgar's cheeks made him smile. He couldn't help it. Even when he had no idea what was going on in the Guardian's head, he knew his tells, at least.

There was a part he was leaving out of his story, he was sure of it. Luckily for him he usually knew which buttons to push to get him talking. 

#

"If I find the right references in the books downstairs, I can be reasonably sure the spell will be safe, but...the only way to know for sure will be to try it," Khadgar admitted with a shrug, giving Lothar a stubborn look in return. He was used to the teasing by now, but that didn't mean the warrior couldn't still catch him off guard at times. 

Lothar somehow threw him off balance more than anyone else ever had. 

But he wasn't about to go spilling his fears to his—friend? Commander? Comrade? No, he had to at least pretend he knew what he was doing here.

Even if he felt like he was in over his head a little.

Time to try and change the subject. "The living quarters and library are behind the strongest wards. Follow me, I can conjure you some food," he said, figuring that Lothar must be hungry after his journey here. Unfortunately, given the corruption, it was conjured food or nothing if they didn't want to risk sickness. 

#

He had been offered the same hospitality so many times in the past by Medivh. It took Lothar off—guard, the wave of sudden depression.

How was it that he could see little pieces of his life in the man in front of him, no matter which way he turned? At first, his naiveté had reminded him of his son, but that soon wore off when he saw what he was capable of. Then, his sister, with their mutual stubbornness and insistent meddling. Now here Khadgar was picking up the place of the last Guardian, as if he had played host to Lothar a thousand times in the arcane tower, as if everything before had just been a dream.

That was a feeling that Lothar was becoming well acquainted with. He had felt that way after his wife died, as well, when the world should have stopped on its axis and yet life carried on. 

He kept his hesitation to a minimum through sheer force of will. "Let's see how good of a cook you are," he deadpanned, knowing full well mage tables were little more than fodder. 

#

Khadgar noticed that Lothar seemed taken aback by the offer, but he didn't have to ask. He knew this place had to have been much more familiar to Lothar back when it wasn't a corrupted, cursed place; it couldn't be easy for him to see it like this. It hadn't been easy for Khadgar either, and he'd only been there twice before. 

Nonetheless, he led the way deeper into the castle, where he had two bedrooms, a bath, and the kitchen cordoned off, along with the library. They were behind the strongest wards he could manage, so he could sleep mostly in peace.

"There are forces that have been drawn here by the fel. Demonic forces, spirits, corrupted creatures...I'm sure you saw the spiders," he said with a shudder, ignoring Lothar's quip about his cooking . He hated those spiders. "So be careful. Your sword may not be much help against an angry spirit."

He opened the door and led Lothar inside, then closed it and repeated the same chant as before, slightly modified. The door flowed a brighter blue than the other had before it settled, and Khadgar's shoulders slumped as he leaned against the door for a moment.

He was really pushing it today, but he wasn't done. He turned around and waved a hand toward the empty bowls and glasses on the table, and with a few words and a soft glow, they filled with food and water. He did his best to try and conjure something with some taste to it, despite his exhaustion. 

#

Lothar's brow furrowed. Was the mage still trying to impress him, after all that had happened? Whether or not he succeeded was irrelevant (he had, though, Lothar admitted to himself. Keeping up the wards, fending off the fel, researching the arcane...even one of those was enough work for one man). He may not be versed in the arcane, but he did know extraneous effort when he saw it. It unsettled him just as much as it always had. His son had wanted to win his favor, too, and it had only won him a painful, useless death. 

He was used to leading other people, though, used to being admired. It was the blessing and the curse of the reckless. 

He nodded his thanks and took a seat with his legs splayed. He'd had a long day's travel, and it always made his back ache. "I suppose it's too much to ask that you have wine stashed in your cupboards," he muttered.

It was a bad habit, drowning his sorrows in drink, but it wasn't a new one. Llane had pulled him out of more pubs than he could remember as the sun rose.

#

Khadgar actually chuckled at that. "I would be careful what you wish for. I've been told that my alcohol conjuring could use some work," he said, sitting down across from Lothar at the small table. He hadn't chosen to stay in Medivh's quarters—hadn't even considered it—but this small former servant's quarters was plenty for him. "In fact, I believe the exact words of my tutor were 'this tastes like the south end of a north facing kodo'."

He didn't drink, never had. It muddled the arcane in his mind, made it more difficult to focus, more difficult to cast spells. It made him feel helpless, much like a hand clamped over his mouth.

Which had happened far too much lately.

"If you find wine in the cupboards, I wouldn't drink it. It's may be fel contaminated by now. Without Medivh to make sure the channels stay intact, they're...unstable. I've been able to keep them under control for now, but I wouldn't chance it," he said. Yet another reason he hadn't been eating much—he could only spare so much energy to conjure new varieties of food every night, and even then conjured food just got unappealing after a while. 

He leaned back in his chair and took a long drink of water. "I was going to send word to you and Lady Taria that Karazhan was under control and posed no threat to those outside any longer. The only question is how long it will be before someone on the outside comes seeking this power," he said softly. "I need to cut off those fel conduits before that happens."

#

Lothar shifted uncomfortably, having too much dignity to admit that even wine that tasted like ass would be better than none. He had spent the nights since the ceremony naming him regent in the same way. For now, though, his heart felt lighter enough to manage sober. Being around the mage was good for him in ways he couldn't name. 

Instead, he focused on the more tangible problem that Khadgar was exhausting himself. "Which requires more research, you said. How long will that take, bookworm?"

He served himself food and drink, and found that it was better than what Medivh had ever managed. He strongly suspected that had always been because the former Guardian had a twisted sense of humor rather than because of lack of skill. He had always known when Lothar was taking himself too seriously.

Ironic, that. 

#

Khadger frowned a little, leaning back in his chair. "Well, it took me a week to get all the initial wards in place, and then two more to organize the library. It had taken some damage," he said, counting in his head. "I've found maybe...a little over three hundred books that could have the information I need, but a good amount of them are in languages I'm not entirely familiar with. I've been translating as I go and focusing on the books with the most promise. I think I've made it through...almost a hundred of them by now?"

A hundred books in two months wouldn't be that big a feat for him, were it not for all the translating that had to be done. He was reasonably fluent in quite a few languages, and even a few ancient ones, but some of the books were in dialects that seemed almost...archaic. It was slowing him down. 

He looked up at Lothar again, this time determination in his eyes. "But I've found a set with references to portals that lead off Azeroth. It's a rough translation, but it might be referring to the conduits Medivh put in place here, if they're using a more derivative form of the ancient Thalassian term for portal, which was questionable at _best_..."

He stopped himself before he could start rambling more about the root words of Thalassian. _Pull it together, Khadgar. Stick to the important bits,_ he thought, his cheeks tinged red once again as he looked back down at his water.

#

Lothar nodded, and leaned forward in his chair, searching Khadgar's face. "And if you manage to figure this out, how to close the portals. Would it be enough to stop another invasion?"

He broke off a piece of bread, and marveled again at how this boy (man, his brain corrected, but no, boy was still safer), who he had written off so easily because of his deceivingly innocent features, might well be the key to saving Azeroth. Funny how wide brown eyes could conceal such a cunning mind. 

He toyed with the food in his hands, mind going over the possibilities. Medivh had destroyed the Orc army once, by pulling the fel from the infected warriors. He didn't know if that was fel—magic or not, but if Khadgar had a way of removing it, perhaps there was some hope left. 

#

"The fel isn't native to Azeroth. It has to be drawn in from this side. The Orcs were one way, and we've shut that down. Karazhan is most likely the second major source of fel contamination," Khadgar explained, standing up and beginning to pace as he thought. "If I can keep this contained and shut down those conduits, all the major sources of fel—that we know of—will be cut off. All that's left will be dealing with Gul'dan, and with his ally gone, he must be weakened."

It was a gamble. Gul'dan had to have help from Medivh—from the demon—to bring the Orcs here. He couldn't do it alone. If they cut off all outside sources, Gul'dan may well be weak enough to defeat once Stormwind recovered from the massive blow of that final battle.

He paused in his pacing, his jaw tightening. "Of course, this means that if the Orcs find out about Karazhan, Gul'dan will be on the doorstep in no time. And their main camp is less than two days away by horse. We've been...lucky, thus far. It's hard to say how long it will be before they recover enough to start sending scouting parties this way."

Khadgar hadn't found any reference to the spell Medivh used to draw out the fel from the Orcs to kill them—but not for lack of trying. He wasn't even sure it would be a spell he was capable of safely using, if he did find it. But he had to try, if given the opportunity.

#

Lothar's heart caught in his throat. Stopping Gul'dan would mean vengeance for everyone that had been taken from him. It would make meaning out of senseless tragedy.

He leaned back again, watching Khadgar carefully as he paced. "You will have the help of Stormwind's army, and its allies," he said. "I will make sure of it."

He closed his eyes briefly, recalling how decimated their forces were from the recent conflict.

"We need time to rebuild our troops. I know though that we might not have it." Lothar was unable to stop the sigh. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

#

Khadgar's heart dropped somewhere into his feet when he heard Lothar say that. It hadn't hit him until now, being cloistered away in this tower with nothing but books and spells and wards—but presented with the commander of Stormwind's army flat out offering the support of an entire army to him, him of all people, it hit him like an arcane blast.

He was the Guardian, whether or not he wanted to be. Whether or not he felt ready. And no matter where he was, people were looking to him to fill the shoes of every prior Guardian—without falling to the fel as Medivh had.

It was an impossible burden to bear so soon. Sure, he had done something miraculous in defeating that demon, but one miracle does not a Guardian make.

He didn't realize he'd stopped breathing for a moment until he started to get dizzy again. Pale, and suddenly feeling ill, he stumbled back and managed to sit down heavily in the chair instead of falling down. He doubled over and clutched his head with both hands, finding it hard to draw breath normally.

" _Light_ , I'm not ready for this," he choked out, his voice ragged—and the first time in a very long time he'd admitted to being overwhelmed. Granted, were he in a better state of mind he surely wouldn't have said it, but still.

If Medivh couldn't fight off the fel, what chance did he have? 

#

Lothar shot to his feet, at a loss for a moment of what to do. By the Light, but Khadgar had actually managed to make him forget his inexperience with war. 

He was a father, though, and the world could not take that from him, even if it took his son. He strode forward and clasped a hand on Khadgar's shoulder. He knelt in front of him. 

"Azeroth called on you once before, spell-chucker, and you were more than capable then. You will be again." Lothar patted Khadgar's cheek, hoping the slight would snap him out of his misery, and wished to the Gods that he could just tell the other man that he could stay in his tower with his books and not have to worry about anything ever again. He didn't have the luxury of babying the mage, though, not with the title of Guardian draped around his shoulders. His role in the world was out of their control. 

"And I'll be there for you, when you're once again asked to do the impossible." Lothar gave him the best smile he could, knowing that it could well be a lie. 

Half of bravery, of course, was lies. It's why he kept fighting on the days there wasn't a chance in hell of victory. 

Sometimes, the lie paid off by becoming truth. Other times, he had to return to the funerals of his friends.

The only choice they had was to try, or meet certain death instead of possibilities.

#

Khadgar managed to lift his head enough to meet Lothar's gaze, taking some comfort in the strength and certainty he found there, even if he suspected Lothar might just be trying to reassure him with words he may not actually mean. "When...when I was first told that I'd been chosen as Guardian Initiate, I was excited," he said, disbelief in his voice now at the change of mind he'd had in the last ten years. "I thought when I rescinded my vows that I would surely be replaced. The Kirin Tor would have, had they the power, but...the Guardian isn't chosen, it's inherited. I had hoped..."

He trailed off and shook his head, slowly sitting up straighter in his chair. He still felt off balance, tired, the bone deep exhaustion of constant work and vigilance. "I had hoped I wouldn't have to even consider taking on this burden for years. Decades, even. This...this isn't how I would have chosen to inherit this title. I think the only reason I even defeated that demon is..."'

He paused again, looking away and swallowing hard. "'I almost lost myself to it until you called out to me. He was _in my head_ , Lothar. I shielded you because otherwise I may well have killed you by _accident_."

Either by the demon taking control or in the massive explosion to sear the fel energy; either one of those would have ended in Lothar's death. If Khadgar had killed Lothar, even by accident...he wouldn't have been able to live with himself.

  
#

Lothar sat back on his heels, fighting the urge to call his gryphon and fly as far away from Karazhan and the earnest expression on Khadgar's face as possible. It screamed _loss, loss, loss_ at him. It felt like he was speeding toward something he couldn't see or prepare for. 

Instead he forced a smile onto his face, feeling it draw up only one corner of his mouth. That would have to do. "Then it was a good thing you brought me with you," he said easily, and was relieved his tone came out light. 

He sat back up in his chair, and yearned more than ever for a drink that wasn't water. Why did he leave his flask on his gryphon? He played absentmindedly with his fork, spinning it as if it were a miniature blade in his fingers.

#

Khadgar shook his head as if to clear it of unwelcome thoughts. "I'm sorry," he muttered, knowing that the Guardian of Azeroth shouldn't be complaining and spouting his fears to anyone, let alone the commander of Stormwind's armies. He was meant to be strong, unshakeable, absolute; everything Medivh was before...

Well. Before.

"You must be tired," he said, thinking of the long gryphon ride he'd once taken with Lothar from Stormwind to this very castle. "The bedroom down the hall on the right is warded and ready for you. I...I need to finish the translation I was working on."

Well, technically, he needed sleep. Badly. But he was almost afraid of the thoughts that would come with it, of the nightmares that would surely haunt him, with all these memories dredged back up. If this was like many nights before, he would find sleep when he ended up falling into it with his head on the book he'd been trying to read. 

#

"No," Lothar said pointedly. "You need sleep. You look worse than some of my people on tour." 

He watched the mage's face for signs of protest, and decided to lean a little harder just in case. "You'll be of no use to anyone if you weaken yourself, Khadgar."

Lothar hadn't been sure he was staying the night. He, too, was not without obligation. Being the regent instead of the commander of Stormwind's armies came with a ball and chain, it seemed. There was paperwork, and there were people checking up on his whereabouts constantly. It was why he had recently taken to frequenting the Slaughtered Lamb in the mage district; as unsavory as it was, no one thought to look for him there, and if anyone recognized him they weren't about to admit being there themselves.

Additionally, the thought of staying in the tower was not a comfortable one. He still felt like there were eyes on them. 

Seeing how Khadgar was wearing himself out made up his mind. The city could wait without his presence for one night.

He stood, but waited for the mage to do the same, purposefully letting his impatience show. 

#

Khadgar was about to argue—until Lothar's second point there. And really, it was a dirty trick; Lothar knew Khadgar was worried about being able to perform his duties, about being too weak to manage it. So it was the easy way to get him to agree, it seemed.

Still, he took a few moments to fight with himself on it before he finally stood up. "Alright," he said, though he obviously wasn't happy about not being allowed to keep working. "I'm attuned to all the wards, so if anything happens, I'll know," he added to reassure Lothar that he was safe here, at least for the time being.

It wasn't comfortable or ideal for either of them to be here, really, but Khadgar wouldn't let anyone else come to harm behind these walls. Not if he could help it.

He sighed and headed for his own bedroom, across the hall from Lothar's, preparing for a while of tossing and turning and hoping that sleep would eventually come.

#

Lothar watched Khadgar retreat to his bedroom, then took a seat back at the table. He wasn't tired yet, and besides—he wanted to see what might roam the tower while the mage was asleep. He took Khadgar's warning about his sword being useless against the arcane in stride; in his experience, his weapon was useful against a surprising variety of threats. 

Then, of course, were the nightmares, none of which he was keen to visit. He knew they would become more infrequent with time, based on past experience. It had been years before he had been able to drown out the echoes of his wife's labor pains in the dark. Soon enough he would be able to close his eyes and not see burning green light take over the pure, or his son's guts being spilled in front of him, but not yet. He would sleep when he was at the point of exhaustion, so that it would be spent dreamless.

Once he was sure he was alone, he put his head in his hands, breathing deeply. 

It was no use. Now that he was by himself, and sober, it didn't matter if he was awake or not. The memories came anyway. Just as they always did in the quiet moments when his mind wasn't occupied.

He stood, and paced the room, hoping he would tire more quickly. 

#

Khadgar somehow managed to fall asleep, despite the troubling thoughts and the stress. Maybe the exhaustion finally got to him; either way, it was a welcome change—up until he woke suddenly, a pulse through his mind that signaled a ward being passed. He shot upright and immediately stepped into the hallway, and he was about to knock on Lothar's door when he heard someone call his name.

Someone familiar. Someone very _dead_.

His hand fell without making contact with the door, and he hesitated before following the voice. He should wake Lothar; but he was beginning to wonder if he was losing his mind, and he really didn't want to wake Lothar with 'I can hear your dead friend's voice calling my name, care to join me?'

Yeah, that would go over well.

He followed the sound of the voice to the large hall outside the library, where he had a ward set up to protect said library. The ward was shimmering, cracked, damaged—but still there. He was about to reinforce it when he heard the voice again, this time closer.

"Are you proud, young Guardian? Is this what you wanted?"

Khadgar spun around, now face to face with an indistinct spirit, a chaotic mass of white and blue arcane energy. He stepped back, shaking his head. "Medivh...?"

"This is what you hoped for, isn't it? To take my place. And to think you would go to such lengths, killing me with your own spells."

"I didn't—"

"Who will be your downfall when you succumb to the fel? Because you will. It's only a matter of time," Medivh's voice said, the spirit circling around behind him, though there was an edge to it, an anger—

 _Not Medivh. It's not him. He wouldn't say these things_.

"It will be Lothar, of course," the spirit said, and Khadgar felt an icy, firm grip curl around his throat—restricting, but not cutting off his breath. A knowing threat. Khadgar was frozen, paralyzed with fear and confusion as the spirit continued to speak. "You know that when the day comes, when you fall to the fel, it will be your closest friend who will run you through on a blade. And he will be hailed as a hero. _Fitting_."

The grip tightened, and in the tendrils of mist that Khadgar could see, he began to see the green smoke starting to run through it. He reached to try and get a grip on the freezing hand around his throat, but it was so cold that it burned his hand like fire.

_It's not Medivh, it's not him, it's not him—_

_#_

Lothar startled awake from where he had finally fallen asleep at the table, with his head on his arms. It took him a moment to remember where he was, and another moment to realize with startling, unwelcome clarity that the familiar voice he was hearing _was not a dream._

He shot to his feet and his sword was out before he drew another breath. "Show yourself, demon!" He yelled. 

He struggled to remember what he'd heard Medivh— _was it Medivh? Was this all a lucid fantasy? Was it a spirit, or was it the fel, twisting itself into a familiar form?_ —and finally recalled the words. 

 _Khadgar, succumbing to the fel. Accusations of death at Lothar's hands._  If it was Medivh, it was not the friend he knew. 

The candles had burned out by then, and he had to squint in the darkness to see Khadgar's form. He was struggling with something, but Lothar couldn’t make it out well enough to strike.

"Lies," he spat. "Just lies, Khadgar." His voice was shaky. He'd had that dream, exactly as the voice had described. It was his own fears, though, manifesting in his nightmares, not some portent of the future. 

Finally, he made out the faintest outline of what looked like smoke, wrapping its way around the younger man. Taking practiced aim, he slashed at it in quick succession and bounced back. 

#

Khadgar was about to really start panicking, his breath constricted to the point of struggling to get air into his lungs, and then he heard Lothar's voice. Much like the prior time at the top of the tower, it pulled him back from panic, brought him back to the present. The grip tightened on his neck, though, and just as he began to see stars from the lack of air—

There was the sharp wind of a sword slicing through air, and the grip disappeared entirely. Khadgar pitched forward onto his hands and knees, coughing and dragging air into his lungs, his head throbbing. He barely heard the soft laughter as the spirit retreated—evidently, it was done with its games for the moment.

It seemed having a guest had set off the previously less aggressive fel spirits in the castle.

Khadgar tried to speak, but it came out as another ragged cough as he lifted one hand to rub at his throat. It felt bruised and at the same time, it burned just with the memory of that cold.

#

Lothar bent over and hauled Khadgar to his feet. Grabbing his satchel, he didn't wait to see where the thing had gone, pushing the mage in front of him toward the exit stairs that would bring them to the flight landing.

He had seen enough, and deeply regretted leaving Khadgar to his own devices while he dealt with his own issues, nevermind that the bulk of those issues were the management of Stormwind and the training of Alliance forces. He might have more than enough people dipping their fingers into his business, but Khadgar had no one.

No one but him, it seemed. Frowning heavily he quickened their pace, feeling the tingle as they passed through the wards Khadgar had set earlier. He was counting on him being confused enough from the attack to go along with him until he was safely outside of the tower, books and whatever else he was sure the mage would say he needed be damned.

He sure as hell couldn't fight the very air, and from the way Khadgar was still gagging, the Guardian was in no shape to try.

#

Khadgar didn't really have a choice aside from stumbling along, trying to keep up with Lothar as the tight grip dragged him forward. He was still trying to recover from the last few minutes—the lack of air, his fears being laid out clear as a map on parchment, and how much of that had Lothar heard...?

If Lothar heard and saw all of that, he couldn't possibly see Khadgar as anything but weak. It was a trick that he should have seen straight through, the friendly voice luring him into a trap.

Stupid. He'd been an _idiot_.

Then, he realized where Lothar was trying to pull him. "W—Wait," he choked out, his voice still sounding wrecked. "I can't—"

#

"How likely is it that whatever that was can break through your wards?" Lothar leaned forward to hiss into Khadgar's ear. He wanted to know if they'd be followed back to Stormwind. It was the only reason “can't” should be brought up in that conversation, in his opinion.

He glanced over his shoulder, paranoid, but of course saw nothing.

They made their way up the steps, and with a piercing whistle he called down his gryphon. 

There was not a good reason in Azeroth to stay at that place a second longer. He relaxed a little in relief as his mount screeched down from the sky, landing with a blast of wind from its wings. It pranced in agitation, as if it, too, could feel the ghosts of Karazhan.

#

Khadgar knew that Lothar wasn't going to take no for an answer. He'd heard that tone before, in the heat of battle.

But he couldn't leave Karazhan unguarded. He couldn't leave it for anything to get out—or get in.

"Just let me—I need to—" he stuttered, pulling away from Lothar and in one smooth gesture and word, summoning his staff to his side. It had been Medivh's, but the staff—Atiesh—had passed to him now. He'd only used it once, to put up the initial warding; he still didn't like having to use it, but he would need it for this.

He waved the staff over the stones in front of them, and a line of runes appeared, glowing brightly; the glow seemed to spread around him and upward, lighting up both of Khadgar's hands, then his eyes with bright blue arcane.

"Shar'adore ishnu lo balah, terro thori'dal," he said, his voice still raw but the words firm as he pulled from every reserve of energy that he had. The air hummed around him, and he closed his eyes for a few moments, focusing and intensifying the magic as he gathered it. "Al'shar ishnu da turus'il'amare!"

He'd only read about this spell in Medivh's books. It was a last resort spell, meant for the most dire of emergencies, and this qualified. As Khadgar released the energy and slammed the bottom of the staff on the stones, a massive arcane barrier sprang up from deep in the ground, surrounding Karazhan like a shell. It would take about ten minutes to fully set in, but after that, nothing was getting in or out until Khadgar returned.

As soon as the energy fully transferred, Khadgar stumbled and fell back against Lothar, his eyes fluttering shut and his staff dropping to the ground.

  
#

Lothar was staring, entranced, as the magic sparked around the tower when he staggered with the sudden, unexpected weight of the Guardian. "Kid? Kid!" The mage was totally unresponsive. 

Without waiting a second longer he snatched up the staff and hopped astride his gryphon, hefting Khadgar up as he did so in front of him, where he could grab his waist solidly with his arm. No good would come of getting him out of that blasted tower only to let him fall to his death. He dug in his heels and the gryphon crouched and then launched itself skyward. 

Lothar looked down at the mage, his eyelashes dark against his rounded cheeks. He would have thought slumber would make him look younger, but the opposite was true—his forehead was creased and the circles under his eyes were more pronounced. He hated to think what Khadgar would have pushed himself to do if he hadn't interfered.

Limits were one of the things that battle experience taught. You had to know how far you could go before becoming useless or worse, a hazard, to your comrades. Khadgar, despite the great service he had done, had not yet been seasoned properly by war. 

One of the reasons it had been so hard for Lothar to accept that the mage was more than what he appeared. When you fought with men and women who had trained their whole lives for combat, it became difficult at times to see civilians as something more than children to protect. 

Khadgar was a solid presence in his arms, and a reminder of how long it had been for him since he had real human contact. Their stations prevented much physical affection between members of the royal household, and Lothar had no family left. Khadgar’s steady breathing beneath his palm was comforting. 

With no distractions to keep him from his thoughts, and the weird hours of the night upon them, his thoughts strayed just enough off the beaten track to notice the slight feeling of energy between himself and the mage. His mind veered away from it as soon as he realized what he was thinking. It was just his muddled, tired mind.

Khadgar was not the only one isolating himself, he mused as finally, Elwynn Forest passed by beneath them. The gryphon began its descent.

#

When Khadgar came to, it was like dragging his mind out of the Black Morass. He felt sluggish and drained, and it took a few moments for everything to come back to him—Lothar's visit, the fel spirit, the shield—

Well. On the bright side, at least he'd gotten the shield up. It just took everything in him to do it, it seemed. It would probably be a challenge to conjure water right now.

He could feel a saddle below him, feathers brushing against his skin where it was bare, and wind—a gryphon, then. He tried to open his eyes, but his head swam and he groaned softly, his head dropping back against the solid surface behind him—

Which, judging by the arm tightly wrapped round his waist, that solid surface was probably Lothar's chest, he imagined. He was too tired though, too weak to do much of anything other than lean back against the warrior; it would take time to recover his energy. The last time he'd felt any more drained than this was after the fight against the demon.

It was okay, though. This was kind of nice. A little strange—no one had ever held Khadgar like this, seeing as how he didn't have any family and the Kirin Tor weren't the hugging type.

But it was nice. It made it easy for him to drift just on the edge of unconsciousness, with the odd feeling of being _safe_ despite the fact that his body was pretty much completely wiped out.

#

Khadgar shifted in his arms, and Lothar looked down with a slight smile. _See? There. The bookworm was going to be okay._  Everything was not lost. Not yet.

He patted Khadgar's stomach absentmindedly with one hand as they landed in Stormwind's gryphon roost and he handed off his animal to the handlers, lifting the mage up in his arms. He struggled for a moment, trying to decided between _castle_  or _barracks. Castle_ would mean better beds, but more questions. As sleep deprived as he was, and as unready to face an angry sister demanding why he hadn't taken any guards with him (his answer would be logical—he didn't want to risk any lives but his own. That would only make her angrier, he knew it), _barracks_  won out. The healers there were used to him, and were discreet. It wasn't as if the accommodations for the guards were paltry, and anyway, he knew first—hand that the cells weren't even the worst in the world. 

Stormwind's streets were blessedly empty, as ungodly early as it was. The flickering of streetlamps accompanied his slow progress as he made his way past the auction house and over the canal bridge. 

Finally he set Khadgar gently on the healer's cot. "What can you do for him?" He asked, his voice gruff. 

Lothar leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and one foot propped up as the healer scrambled to do his king's bidding. Finally, with the announcement that he would be fine and was simply out of mana, at least to the extent of his ability to diagnose what ailed him, Lothar relaxed. 

"Take him to the castle if I get called away," he instructed, knowing how unpredictable times were. 

The healer gave him a shaky nod, confused about the secrecy and recognizing the Guardian himself on the table in front of him. 

Lothar grabbed blankets from the corner and tucked the mage in. He sat down on a corner stool to wait, but he blinked once too long, and ended up falling asleep. 

_Khadgar woke, demanding why he had been brought to Stormwind. Lothar was out of his usual excuses. "Because you're needed here," he said, his voice raw as if he'd been crying. He couldn't remember why, though. What had happened?_

_Callan, his son, his heart, lay on the cot next to the mage. "Dad? Why did you bring me here?"_

_"Because you're needed here," he repeated, his voice softer._

_Khadgar had left his line of vision for a moment, and suddenly, he filled it, his eyes a fiery green. "You're wrong," he (it? Because surely this was a demon and not Khadgar) growled, his lips twisted in cruel amusement. "You're the one I need here to see this. You ordered me to do this. This is your fault!"_

_Green light exploded in the room, and his son was writhing on the floor, trickling blood from his mouth. Ley lines flared up around him._

_"NO!" He screamed, "No, Medivh, stop this—" Because now there were two bodies on the floor writhing under the touch of the fel, and in the place of Khadgar was the old Guardian. Before his eyes, his face shifted and lengthened, horns sprouting from his head. "Khadgar! Do something...!" But the mage was burning on the ground next to Callan as the demon filled the room, both with his presence and his laughter._

Outside of the dream, his real body thrashed, and fell off the stool. 

#

Khadgar woke to the sound of movement, and at first he was too groggy to actually pull himself entirely out of sleep for it—then he heard a _crash_. He was awake in an instant, not recognizing where he was for a moment— _the barracks, you're in Stormwind_ —and then he spotted Lothar.

He fought the blankets and was out of the bed in a moment, his legs still weak as he dropped down to kneel over Lothar, and took hold of the warrior's head to keep him from hurting himself. "Lothar!" he snapped, trying to wake up his friend—and then he decided to use one of Lothar's own tried and true tactics. He slapped the man across the face. "Lothar, wake up!"

He couldn't sense any foul magic at work here—granted, he wasn't in the best shape to be working with magic right now, but he knew curses when he saw them—so he knew this had to be one hell of a nightmare.

#

Lothar's came awake, fast, as one tends to when they hit a stone floor and are slapped consecutively. 

His eyes were wild and clear, for once, of any of their usual masks as his gaze fell on Khadgar's worried face. The mage was lucky; he'd drawn his fists to fight off his attacker, and he was only just able to pull up short. 

His mind blanked out for a moment as he tried to reconcile the dream with the reality. They had been too similar in location and circumstances. He looked behind Khadgar to the other cots in the room, almost subconsciously looking for his son, before he realized what he was doing and focused again on the younger man. 

Not burning to death on the floor. Not infused with the fel. The mage would be fine. 

_As long as he could keep him out of trouble and away from Karazhan._

Realizing belatedly he'd left his emotions wide open, he bounced as well as he could to his feet and leveled a reproachful look at Khadgar. It helped that when he was standing he was the taller of the two. The best defense was always a good offense. "You hit me," he accused.

His hand, though, went to the small of his back. Sleeping on a stool hadn't been the best decision.

#

Khadgar _was_  lucky, because even if he'd been quick enough to pull off a binding spell to keep Lothar from punching him in the face, he didn't have the energy to do it. So he was very, very glad that Lothar managed to wake up before he started throwing punches.

He stood up, a little slower than Lothar, because wide awake or not, his body was still trying to bounce back from yesterday. "I was trying to wake you up," he protested, wincing in sympathy as he watched Lothar put a hand to his back. "Why weren't you on a _bed_?"

Had...had Lothar been sitting up next to him all night? The thought sounded a bit preposterous; there wasn't anyone who would watch over him like that. Not until now, it seemed.

It startled him a little to think that, in Lothar's position, he would have done the same without hesitation.

#

Lothar hesitated, not expecting to be argued with and unable to come up with an answer that wouldn't embarrass him. Why wouldn't the mage just be _easy? Other_  people didn't question him when he put them on the defensive. 

Other people who weren't his sister Taria, of course. Luckily, she had trained him in the art of avoidance.

"Perhaps you should lay down again," he settled on muttering, his eyes sliding sideways and away from Khadgar's. "I can get the healer."

#

"I'm fine," Khadgar insisted stubbornly; he was just still tired, and...well, yes, still a little shaky. But that was to be expected. "You would be wasting the healer's time. I'm just...I'd never done that shield spell before. I'd read about it, but I wasn't sure how much it would take out of me."

Nonetheless, he did drop down to sit on the edge of the bed, at least until he felt a bit more steady on his feet. He looked down at his hands, all at once remembering the spirit—and the way Lothar had come after it, despite being at a distinct disadvantage, going after an incorporeal being with a _sword_. "Thank you, by the way," he said softly, and despite his attempts to hide it, he was obviously a bit ashamed of what happened. "For saving me back there. I should have been more careful."

That was an understatement. But while the spirits at Karazhan had been aggressive at times, they'd never been that...devious. It was a sign they were getting stronger.

A sign that he needed to figure out a way to shut down those conduits as quickly as possible.

#

"That spell you did was impressive," Lothar admitted quietly, and sat down on the cot next to him with their shoulders barely touching. He clasped his hands between his legs and glanced sideways at the mage, taking in his embarrassed expression. 

He looked up and away, toward the ceiling, focusing on an enterprising spider building her web in the corner. Safer than looking at Khadgar. "Fighting a battle on multiple fronts is never easy. I myself avoid it when at all possible. Keeping your wards up, researching, and fending off whatever dwells in that place is too much for one person to handle all at once. And yet you tried it."

#

"I have to go back. As soon as I recover," Khadgar insisted, frowning in thought. "The spirits that remain there are obviously gaining strength from the fel. I have to figure out how to shut down those conduits. Perhaps the royal library might have something of use."'

It would come as no surprise to anyone that Khadgar was about as formidable as a newborn fawn right now, and still insistent on working to solve the problem at hand. He'd always been like that; it was one of the reasons he'd always excelled at the arcane, and also the reason few found it tolerable to spend extended periods of time around him, as he quickly got lost in his work.

"That shield will keep anything from getting in or out, for a while. A couple of weeks at the most. I'll need to get back before then to make sure the wards are still in place and strengthened," he added, obviously lost in thought again, and yes— _completely_  missing the point that Lothar was so not—subtly getting at. 

#

"A few weeks," Lothar echoed, and dragged a hand over his face. He wondered half—seriously if there was anything that could restrain the Guardian well enough to keep him in a barracks cell. Probably not. 

He let his hand fall on Khadgar's leg, and gave it a brief squeeze. "Then let us go to the castle. We'll set you up with a room, and you can stay as long as you need to as you research." He gave the mage a pointed look. "And when you go back to Karazhan to reset your wards, you will be taking me with you."

Not-quite muffling a sigh, he stood, and waited by the doorway for Khadgar to follow. 

#

Khadgar's stomach did a strange little flip when Lothar's hand grasped him for those few moments—he put it off to being shaky already. Light, he must really be out of it.

"Don't you have duties here to attend to instead of babysitting the new Guardian?" he asked as he stood up, though his tone was teasing. He hesitated a moment, then, catching sight of Medivh's staff—no, _his_  staff now—leaning against the wall by the bed. He paused, then finally reached out and took hold of it, reluctantly carrying it with him as he followed Lothar.

He still didn't feel worthy of it, and it showed. 

#

Lothar set about ordering the servants to fix up quarters in the same wing as the library for Khadgar, and assigned a set of guards to the rooms. When he was sure the mage couldn't hear, he asked one of them to tell him immediately if Khadgar ported anywhere. He still didn't trust the Guardian to stay put. His eagerness to fix the problems of the world was almost tangible. Lothar remembered being so impatient, once, but he had learned with time that haste only lead to mistakes and in the worst circumstances, failure and death. It was better to plan carefully.

Unless, of course, it was only your life you had to worry about. 

With the fel involved, though, it was the fate of Azeroth itself on the line if Khadgar didn't take care of himself. He hoped the young mage understood that. 

He nodded at Khadgar when everything was set up. "Send for me if you have need," he said, and made to take his leave.

#

Khadgar started to say something—almost—and then changed his mind at the last moment. "I will," he settled for, and with that, he threw himself into his work.

He didn't want to bother Lothar if he could help it; the man had already spent enough time on him unnecessarily. He did dismiss all but one of the guards; they refused to all be dismissed, but Khadgar thought it was silly to have multiple guards assigned to stand around while he worked in the very heart of Stormwind, probably the safest place in the entire Eastern Kingdoms.

He found promising books in the royal library, ancient tomes that probably hadn't been touched in decades, and Lady Taria stopped by a couple of times to check up on him, which was...kind of nice, really, to have another person he could truly call a friend. He made his usual habit of working nearly round the clock, though, and it was often his personal guard who prodded him to remind him to eat, or tell him that it was mere hours from sunup and he'd been staring at the same page for an hour.

And sometimes, like now, his guard came in to find him with his arms folded on the desk, head down on them and fast asleep.

The poor guy really wasn't paid enough for this.

#

Lothar was swept away again into the arms of duty; his two-day respite from being regent had not gone unnoticed. There were grievances to be heard, and threats to be assessed; none of them, thankfully, from the Orcs. 

Taria and his pal the guard kept him updated on Khadgar's whereabouts and activity; it sounded like the mage was settling into his natural role of bookworm-academic quite easily at the castle. Of course, he still didn't trust him to stay as long as he'd promised, or to tell Lothar when he made the decision to return to Karazhan.

Llane, he mused. Llane had been the only one he'd trusted to really keep his word. 

Restless and sick of paperwork and sitting idly on a throne while ordering other men off to die, Lothar finally decided to go himself to take care of the troll threat that had surfaced in the Hinterlands. One thing turned into another and it was three days before he could return to Stormwind, tired and bruised and covered in grime he didn't want to name, but happy that he'd put his sword to use. He was a soldier, not a court noble. 

After reporting to the Queen of their actions, he asked after Khadgar and was relieved to hear the mage had kept his nose buried in his books. He decided to go clean up before checking in on him himself. 

#

It wasn't long after Lothar's return that Khadgar had a breakthrough. 

Unfortunately, it wasn't the breakthrough he'd wanted. 

The conduits that had been opened were opened using fel magic. Fel magic had a cost, that much he already knew; it required life taken as fuel. He'd hoped that he might find another way to shut down the conduits, but when he finally found a reference to shutting down pathways between worlds, there were only two methods listed to close them—the death of the creator of the passages whilst said creator was still in the process of creating and strengthening them, or a sacrifice of life.

This gave Khadgar an idea; arcane magic was technically a form of life in and of itself. The conduits reacted violently when he exposed them using his own magic; could he gather and direct enough of his own magic to close them without ending up dead in the process?

That seemed to be the question of the hour.

"Guardian, you haven't slept in 36 hours," his guard was saying, but Khadgar waved him off without a word, sitting in the middle of a few stacks of books nearly as tall as himself sitting down. The guard sighed heavily, then turned to leave. "Fine. I'll go get someone who can _make_ you sleep," he muttered, though Khadgar didn't hear him.

#

The guard found Lothar just as he turned the corner to the library wing. He clapped the man on his shoulder and pressed gold into his hand—he knew watching Khadgar was an oftentimes thankless job. 

 _Funny,_  he mused then, _how you've never minded it yourself._

He opened the door to Khadgar's study without announcing himself, hoping to get an honest glimpse at how Khadgar spent his time. However when he looked around, all he could see were books, books, and more books, without any sign of the mage.

Still knowing he was buried in there somewhere, Lothar leaned against the doorway and smirked. "I hear you've been taking care of yourself while I've been away," he tested him, challenging the mage with his tone to tell him the truth.

#

Khadgar didn't rise to that challenge; he didn't even hear it, to be honest. He scrambled to his feet, a book in his hand and his hair mussed from running his fingers through it.

"Lothar!" he said, obviously excited about something. "I was going to come find you soon—I've found something. Maybe a solution to our problem."

Then he winced, forgetting the _but_ in the equation, and he found himself looking anywhere but at Lothar. "You...won't like it, but it _will_ work. I just need time to...prepare."

#

Lothar frowned at the mage. He wasn't surprised in the least—any solution to the fel was likely too good to be true, in his expectations. "How much won't I like it?" He asked.

He looked Khadgar over, noting the rumpled clothes and mussed hair that corroborated the guard's assessment that the Guardian hadn't done more than nap in days. Knowing nagging would do little unless he leveraged some guilt in with it, he added: "I've just gotten back from the Hinterlands. I need food. Come with me and tell me of your plan while we eat."

He plucked the book from Khadgar's hand for further motivation, examining the cover in feigned interest. He wouldn't be able to make heads or tails of the contents, he was sure. "Have you been to the Golden Keg, in the Dwarven District? I've gotten used to their food while I was away."

  
#

Khadgar blinked in surprise at the offer of food, but...come to think of it, he hadn't eaten in a while. He was kind of hungry.

"Can't say I've been," he admitted, though that was no surprise. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd gone out to a pub or something like it to eat. He frowned as Lothar snatched the book away, but didn't try to get it back.

"So, the fel—it uses life as fuel, so taking life is the only way to reverse fel magic, normally. We knew this already," he said, falling into step beside Lothar. "I was hoping to find a way around that, but according to the research I've done...I might not have to. There may be a way to destroy the conduits without having to kill to do it."

#

Lothar didn't hold back his groan when Khadgar just launched right into his explanation, because he had hoped for at least a little rest before they started in on strategy. His ears perked up at what the mage had found, however. "And what way is that?" He asked. 

They reached the end of the long hall leading into the throne room on one end and to the outside on the other, and exited to twilight falling upon the city. Lothar kept his gate slow, trying to prevent his distracted companion from taking a tumble.

#

"Magic is a form of life," Khadgar explained, running on pure adrenaline now—when he got close to a solution like this, it was nigh impossible to slow him down. "Not as strong, obviously, as a living soul, but strong in its own right. That's why those pathways reacted so violently to being exposed using the arcane."

Now came the part he knew Lothar wouldn't like. "If I can focus enough arcane energy into the reversal spell, I should be able to close the conduits without tapping into any actual living souls. It can be done, in...in theory, anyway."

The obvious went unspoken—that if he messed up, if he underestimated the energy needed for the spell, it would no doubt kill him. 

  
#

Lothar turned to him, his eyes bright with ferocity. He put a hand on his shoulder and turned the mage to face him with a tight grip, his fingers digging into Khadgar's tunic. His face was mere inches away, and he could feel the other man's breath on his lips. "And if you don't give it enough life-magic, spell-chucker? Will it take yours, then?"

Khadgar hadn't been exaggerating when he said that he wouldn't like this plan.

#

Khadgar winced. Lothar certainly wasn't avoiding the problem, there.

"Well...yes," he admitted, managing to avoid Lothar's gaze even when they were standing so close. "Assuming that my estimates are wrong, anyway. But hopefully that wouldn't happen, if all goes well."

He shifted uncomfortably under Lothar's grip before meeting his gaze again. "It has to be done and you know it. We have to cut off the supply before Gul'dan realizes it's there."

  
#

"Find another way," Lothar patted his chest once before stepping back. It was the tone of someone used to be obeyed.

He held Khadgar's eyes a moment longer. 

Here it was again, that feeling of falling. He knew Khadgar was right, and if it was a choice between the mage's life and Azeroth itself he would have to step back and allow Khadgar to do what he must. 

_It was the feeling of looking into his son's eyes as he told him he was a soldier._

His fingers dug into his palms. He forced them to loosen and turned to hasten their pace toward the inn. "Find another way," he muttered again to himself. 

The Guardian was enterprising, and intelligent. There had to be another option. 

He pushed open the door to the Golden Keg, and smiled charmingly at Thaegra, the barkeeper. He placed two orders for frybread and honeymint tea before waving Colin over and getting some Hearthglen ambrosia for himself. He needed something strong to warm over the ache in his chest.

#

"You're joking, right?" Khadgar asked, but Lothar was already moving, going in and sitting down at the bar, which was nearly empty this time of night—it seemed Khadgar had been working later than he thought. He joined Lothar at the bar, dropping down onto the stool next to him. 

"Aside from the fact that it might take months or _years_ to create a new way to reverse fel magic, we have no guarantee that any other way will work. Done right, this _will_ work," he insisted, keeping his voice down—the last thing they needed was for some passersby to hear the king regent and the new Guardian discussing how to destroy a fel conduit.

"It's my duty to protect this realm," he added, unaware just how closely he was echoing the former—and now deceased—Guardian. "If this is the only way to do this before the Orcs discover it, I _have_ to try."

#

Lothar hated how right everything Khadgar was saying was. "If it's the only way, but I don't believe that. You'll do more research," he said softly. 

He rubbed absentmindedly at his chest, not even aware that it was the thought of losing Khadgar that made it hurt. His mind was on other possibilities for stopping the Orcs. 

There weren't any that he could come up with. That's what he hated the most. He didn't have knowledge or power over the arcane. He wasn't used to handing over responsibility, but in this case, what choice did he have? Khadgar might very well be their only hope when it came to the fel. 

Thaegra brought their food out and Lothar jerked his head toward a table in the corner, with a pointed look at the few other patrons. He took his plate and mugs and sat.

#

Khadgar wasn't sure what was bothering Lothar so much about the idea. It was a good idea—sure, it carried some risk, but what didn't these days? Desperate times and all.

It didn't cross his mind that Lothar might be that bothered at the possibility of losing him. Maybe anger at losing a Guardian so soon after they'd inherited the title, which would surely complicate things, but...

No one cared for him personally that much. Or if they did, he had no idea about it. His life seemed a small price to pay to keep the Orcs from getting their hands on a new source of the fel. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, eyes darting down to where Lothar's hand rubbed at his chest. "You weren't injured on your trip, were you?"

The thought was more distressing than he expected it to be. He was already ready to work what little healing magic he had. 

#

"What?" Lothar blinked, then looked at where his thumb was pressing into his chest. He brought his hand down to clutch at his mug of spirits and mustered a smile that even felt false. "Skirmishes come with injuries, bookworm. It's nothing to worry about."

That much was true. The cuts and bruising he had were all minor. 

And if they had nothing to do with why he'd been rubbing at his chest, that wasn't any of Khadgar's business. 

Unsettled by the conversation, he took a long drink and tilted his chin at the mage's plate. "If that doesn't suit you, order something else."

#

Khadgar gave him a skeptical look, but he didn't press the issue. He turned his attention to the food and drink, thankful that Lothar hadn't ordered something alcoholic for him.

He didn't think Lothar had paid that much attention to what he did and didn't drink.

"No, it's...it's fine. Thank you," he said, proceeding to dig in—presented with food, he was reminded of how hungry he was. 

"How _did_ the trip go, by the way? My guard just told me it went 'well', which by your definition could mean any number of outcomes," he joked. It was true, though. 

#

"Our Dwarven friends in the north needed some help managing the Vilebranch trolls. I'm not sure if you know, but they've a reputation for making sacrifices." Lothar shrugged. "It took longer than expected and the problem isn't solved, but we were able to help with their immediate requests. It should strengthen our alliances. We'll need their help soon enough."

He looked surreptitiously at Khadgar. Since when was the mage interested in minor military patrols?

"What do you mean, 'by your definition?'" Lothar asked when his words caught up with him. He had a suspicion, and he doubted he would disagree, but he wanted to see Khadgar trip over himself trying to explain. 

It was the small pleasures in life. If the other man was going to tease him, he'd better be prepared.

#

Khadgar sputtered for a moment. "I just...I meant that you tend to define 'went well' as anything that didn't involve loss of life or limb, whereas most people would tend to have a stricter definition," he pointed out, just as a man stumbled up to their table and messily slammed his beer down on it. Judging by the smell, the man was well past drunk.

"Well, if it ain't the man of the hour, the Guardian hisself come to slum it with us!" he declared loudly, and then he leaned in—he probably meant to whisper, but it definitely wasn't a whisper. "Heard the last one went right crazy and turned on us. Good thing you off'd him."

Khadgar shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't _proud_ of what he'd had to do—that much was obvious. "It's not that simple—"

"Well, he let them big green bastards in, right? I'd say that's evil, right there."

Discomfort quickly turned to anger at that. "He _wasn't_ evil."

"Right, right," the man said with a dismissive laugh. "Hey, show us a bit of magic. Heard you can turn people into farm animals and whatnot, turn my buddy over there into a pig!"

  
#

Lothar watched in amazement as not only was he not recognized as the regent of Stormwind by the neighborhood drunk, but the man also had the gall to taunt someone he _knew_  could turn him into an animal. 

Khadgar, to his vast surprise, took it in stride. Lothar forced his temper down. 

 _Good thing you off'd him._  The words rang about in his ears.

The people who truly knew him, of course, were well aware that if he didn't react immediately, it meant a volcano was brewing within him and just hadn't reached its peak. 

Lothar put a boot up on the table and crossed his legs, raising an eyebrow at the mage. He wanted desperately to knock the man flat, but he was the sitting king, and his fists were meant for Orcs, not his own people. Not over one drunken misstep, at any rate.

He'd see where the night went, of course. 

He waved a hand at Khadgar, hoping he'd bypass the man' friend and go straight for the source. "Seems like our friend at the barracks has a big mouth," he drawled, and knocked back the rest of his drink, signaling the bartender for another round.

#

"Who wouldn't if he got turned into a sheep!" the drunken man declared, and Khadgar tried to be patient, because really—what would it look like if the new Guardian was tossing around magic in some random pub? He couldn't imagine the lecture he'd probably get from Lady Taria if the word got back to her about it.

But of course, Lothar was no help—in fact, he just raised an eyebrow and waved at Khadgar as if giving _permission_. But Khadgar would never—

"So how'd you do it, anyway? I heard you blowed the whole place up—"

" _Shivalar_!"

He didn't even realize he'd done it until the puff of smoke cleared and there was a goat stumbling about in the man's place, the blue glow fading quickly from Khadgar's hand and eyes. He froze when he realized that the few other patrons were staring wide—eyed at him and the man—turned—goat.

Right. He probably shouldn't have done that.

#

Lothar doubled over with shocked laughter, slapping his knees.

"What'd you do to Taylor, you little worm?" A deep voice rumbled. 

Sobering, he looked up to see the goat's friend, all six-foot-ten and three-feet-wide, shove his way through the tables toward Khadgar. 

Instantly, Lothar was on his feet, placing himself in the man's trajectory. "Your friend shouldn't be talking about things he doesn't know about," he said evenly. "This isn't your fight, friend."

"Get out of my way."

"Get out of my way," Lothar challenged, a smile on his face. 

"Are you one of them too? You curs belong on the other side of town, with the other clowns. Move, or you'll get it too."

Lothar sighed, made as if to turn, ducked the man's surprising well—aimed fist, and hit him in the gut. 

It was like hitting a brick wall. Lothar shook out his hand as the man spluttered and tried to catch his breath. 

#

If there was one thing Khadgar didn't tolerate, it was people showing disrespect to people who deserved all the respect in the world—and after everything Lothar had done, he was one of those people. Khadgar stood up as the man focused in on Lothar again, then the guy pulled back his fist and got ready to throw a punch.

" _Andu talaras_!" Khadgar shouted, his extended hand lighting up bright blue and his eyes as well; the man's fist only hit the bright blue barrier that had sprung up a few inches in front of Lothar. Khadgar turned his hand, then with one gesture, he pushed the wall of energy at the man. " _Shalaros_!" he said sharply, and the light hit the behemoth brawler, slamming him back through three empty sets of tables and chairs until he hit the far wall. Khadgar didn't keep him pinned; the man was already dazed for the moment, so he let the energy drop, and the lights faded from him once again.

The pub was dead silent, but Khadgar just sent a glare to those still staring. "Anyone else?" he snapped, and heads quickly ducked back into quiet conversation, self-preservation kicking in.

His shoulders slumped a little and he sighed; Lady Taria was definitely going to hear about this one.

...in his defense, at least he hadn't used a pyroblast on the guy, though he'd been tempted.

#

Lothar blinked at where the drunk man had been a moment ago. He turned in surprise to Khadgar. "What was that?" He asked. 

Turning someone into a sheep was one thing; using magic in a pub brawl was another. A surge of protectiveness thrummed in his body. The last thing he wanted was for Khadgar to make enemies in Stormwind; he wanted to be sure the mage would be taken care of and accepted even without him present. 

There was deep distrust of magic-users, though, and that had nothing to do with the mage or his role as Guardian. He himself was still wary of the arcane, even after years of friendship with Medivh (because of Medivh, now) and after all that Khadgar had done for both him and Azeroth. 

Perhaps the drinks hadn't been such a good idea; it was his fault for egging Khadgar on. 

Their friend the goat let out a loud bleat. 

The big lunk against the wall made to come toward them again. There was a certain type of person who didn't know how to quit, and Lothar knew how to spot them because it took one to know one. 

Luckily, the tavern keeper could spot them too. "Davis!" Colin cried. "Out. Get out of here. You've had enough tonight. Take Taylor with you, I don't want goat turds on my floor."

Davis' meaty hands balled into fists. It seemed like the inn held its breath a moment, but then the fight seemed to go out of the big man. He grabbed his friend the goat around the waist and left, but not before sending a long glare toward him and Khadgar. 

Lothar shook his head and turned back to Khadgar expectantly. 

#

Khadgar hesitated; he'd acted without thinking, and he knew it. It was a mistake.

But when that man had pulled back his fist to strike Lothar, all Khadgar could do was _react_. Protect. It felt like more than duty, like any threat to Lothar was just...unacceptable.

But it was equally unacceptable for him to have lost his wits over one simple fight, whether or not the 'acting king' was the one threatened. 

"He was...I just...I'm sorry," he said in a rush, but there was no good excuse—Lothar didn't need his protection, not from normal human adversaries. Khadgar shook his head and backed up a few steps; what the fel was wrong with him? He was _never_ this careless. Why was this any different?

Because it was Lothar?

"I'm sorry," he repeated, and then he turned on his heel and made for the door. He needed air, needed space—really, he felt like he needed time away from himself, but that was a bit of a stretch to say the least. He could feel wary eyes on him as he stalked out the door, but he didn't look up, didn't want to see people looking at him with...with _fear._

Light, that spirit had been right about him after all, hadn't it? He was weak.

#

"Khadgar! Khadgar. Wait." Lothar rolled his eyes, mainly at himself. He'd known the mage's heart was in the right place; hadn't he just done the same thing as Khadgar did by getting in between him and that bastard? Khadgar was more than able to handle himself, as that night had already proven. He should have let things be.

It was just that the mage was always so eager to _prove_  himself to him, and he dreaded the day that it might mean Khadgar put himself in real danger.

 _He wasn't Callan and he wasn't his wife._   _Khadgar can take care of himself,_ Lothar reminded himself. _This will be easy enough to explain. He acted in accord with the law, protecting the king._ That, of course, would be the official report to Talia, when she no doubt heard of their night out. 

Unofficially, he took a hard look at the three remaining patrons, and sighed. This would mean he couldn't come back to the Golden Keg anytime soon, at least not to drink as heavily as he would like. "I am Anduin Lothar," he announced to the room. "Your regent. The Guardian of Azeroth was protecting me, as is his duty to Stormwind. Is that understood?"

Shocked stares precluded hasty bows. He acknowledged them tiredly and bought them all a round of drinks before running after Khadgar. 

 _What happened?_ He wondered. _When did the thought of misunderstanding between them become such a terrible thing?_ There was a time in the not-so-distant past he would have teased the mage mercilessly about this. As it was, the look on Khadgar's face spoke of true anxiety, and he hated that he had put it there.

He caught up with the mage in the streets, putting a gentle hand on his should to stop him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have encouraged you."

#

Khadgar jumped when a hand set on his shoulder, but he quickly let out a relieved breath when he realized who it was. He'd almost expected one of those idiots from the pub.

He reluctantly turned to face Lothar, looking anywhere but his face. "It wasn't your fault. I should have had better control," he insisted, still able to feel the hum of arcane magic under his skin. It had been a while since he'd done spell casting like that—since he left Karazhan, actually—so suddenly jumping into defense mode put his energy a little off-balance, ready for more.

"It just...it reminded me of..." he trailed off, and then shook his head. "It doesn't matter. It's no excuse. You can defend yourself without me losing my wit about it."

He wasn't about to tell Lothar that it reminded him of nightmares he still had, of watching his only friends being struck down by fists about that size—Orc fists, in the heat of battles they'd fought once before. Light, he still had nightmares of when Durotan had one massive hand clamped over his mouth, keeping him from casting—and one twitch would have separated his head from his shoulders.

He was used to books and spells before all that. He felt like he would never adjust to the memories of actual battles that still haunted him even on the dullest of days.

  
#

Lothar's lips quirked up. At least Khadgar hadn't realized Lothar had been defending _him._ It seemed like the mage's ego could do without another blow. "At least rest easy that I can hold my own against Stormwind's citizens, yes?" 

Perhaps it was the booze, but he had an inexplicable urge to cup Khadgar's face with his hand in that moment, to draw his eyes back to him and away from that disapproving stare inwards. He hesitated, his hand hovering in midair between them, then, _yes, it was the booze, of course it was,_  he followed his instincts and settled for a light pat that was more of a caress, really. 

"Even the most hardened warriors have nightmares," he said softly. It was too late, his tongue was too loose. This sort of honesty between them felt like he was allowing the other man too _close_ , and he wasn't even sure how to define what that _closeness_  was. He only knew that if he didn't hold him at arm's length, he'd be mourning him even more than he would be already soon enough.

He drew his hand back uncomfortably.

#

Yes, Khadgar could rest easy knowing that the citizens of Stormwind were no danger to his friend. He did have to worry about the real dangers, the ones that he alone could fight—like the fel.

All the more reason to get back to Karazhan and take care of his most important duty: cutting the fel off from Azeroth.

His breath caught in his throat and his heart seemed to skip a beat when Lothar's hand touched his face; it was a feeling he didn't recognize at first, a feeling that he hadn't had in a _very_ long time. And when it hit him just what it was, his eyes widened and his brain skidded to a halt.

No.

Oh _no_. 

He did _not_ have a damn crush on the regent of Stormwind. His _friend_. No, this was _not_ happening to him, not now, not like this. Talk about a recipe for complete and utter disaster.

"I...I have research to do. You wanted me to try and find another method, right?" he asked, the words practically falling out of him. "Good night, Lothar," he added hastily, turning and starting for the castle.

Of course, he had no plans to look for an unlikely, undependable second option to cut off the fel.

No, he would port to Karazhan _tonight_ and finish this.

#

Lothar actually flinched when Khadgar turned away from him. His fingers were warm from where he'd touched his skin. 

He wanted desperately to correct the other man, to tell him, _"Call me Anduin, please, for the love of the Light, I have no one left."_  Even his own sister called him Lothar these days. 

What he said instead was: "Sleep, spell-chucker!"

He stood on the cobblestones for far too long, until he could no longer see the hint of blue in the darkness. 

Confused and inexplicably weary, Lothar made his way across town to the mage district, to the Slaughtered Lamb, where he could drown his feelings out in peace.

#

Khadgar tried to ignore the queasy feeling in his stomach as he walked back to the castle. He just focused on the task at hand—it was easier than focusing on what he'd just realized, which was somehow more complicated and more upsetting than learning he was still to inherit the title of Guardian even after killing the previous Guardian. 

He was a mess, really. 

He got to his room and threw on his traveling clothes and his cloak, then sat down and penned a quick note—to Lady Taria and Lothar, thanking them for their hospitality and ensuring that, were he able, he would be there if they have need of him and they should just send word to Karazhan.

That was under the assumption he performed this spell correctly and didn't underestimate the energy required. It was a pretty big assumption, actually.

He gave the sealed letter to the guard outside his room with orders to present it to Lady Taria in the morning, that it wasn't important enough to wake her over. That done, he closed the door, took his staff, and quickly and wordlessly ported himself to Karazhan—one of the many things he'd learned in the months since. He was doing better with doing some of the simple spells without speaking, such as ports and conjuring, but it took more energy—it was worth it this time, to not have his guard overhear him casting.

He appeared in the library at Karazhan, that familiar chill coming over him. It would take time to prepare the spell; he would have to remove the outer shield, and drain the wards to minimum power in order to have himself at full strength. It would take a full day, maybe a little more, to focus that much energy.

He got started immediately. There was no time to lose.

#

If Lothar had thought he could travel anywhere in the city without being found, he discovered he was sadly mistaken. Even the Slaughtered Lamb, den of miscreants that it was, apparently was not safe. He slunk low in his booth, clutching his mug desperately. Since it wasn't a respectable inn, it was of course still full of people, and he hoped to blend in. The Stormwind guard spotted him anyway and pushed his way through the crowd. 

He shot up straight when he saw exactly _which_  guard it was. "Damn it!" He slurred before the poor man could open his mouth. He finished his drink, paid his tab and left, his hand gripping the metal elbow of the soldier. 

Once they were outside, he turned to him only long enough to confirm his suspicions. "Khadgar's left?"

"Yes, sir."

Why, _why_ , did the mage always make things difficult? 

"Tell the Queen I've gone to Karazhan. Tell her—" He wasn't sure what to tell her, exactly. "Tell her not to worry."

The guard turned to go. Lothar gripped his elbow again. "Wait, wait. Don't tell her that, she'll worry. Tell her..."

Taria would worry anyway, there was no helping it. 

"Tell her to get the Kirin Tor if I'm not back in two days. Tell her it's about the fel. Tell no one else."

"Yes, sir."

Khadgar wouldn't like that, but who else was there to turn to? He could only hope they'd be able to help. He ran past the guard, stumbling in his drunkenness, until he got to the gryphon roost. 

He hoped the mage was only sulking. He knew there wasn't a chance of that. 

It was a minor miracle that he didn't fall to his death on the way to Karazhan; he had been deep in his cups when the guard found him. Finally, though, he landed, cursing to himself and wishing he had time to find the plumbing facilities before what was about to come. "Khadgar?" He called out. "Kid?"

It was like déjà-vu, on so many complicated levels.

#

By the time Lothar arrived, Khadgar had gathered all the energy he though he could manage to control and was ready to start. With this much built up, he couldn't suppress the glow in his eyes when Lothar opened the door and came into the main hall, where Khadgar had already drawn the circle of runes.

And it was horrible timing, too—this much arcane energy was dangerous for anyone to be around, let alone a warrior with no aptitude for magic.

He threw out a hasty shielding spell around Lothar—déjà-vu on another level—and tried to regain his focus. He couldn't afford to lose it now. "S-Stay there, it's...it's not safe," he managed, his voice strained and every line of his body tense. The runes around his feet pulsed; it was now or never. He needed to do this, whether or not Lothar was here; he would just have to make sure the shield stayed up, or Lothar might not survive being in the radius of the spell.

It struck him that if he accidentally killed Lothar with his own magic, he wouldn't see any reason to keep it from killing him, too. Lothar was nearly all he had now.

#

"Not again," Lothar begged, because he was drunk. His voice broke. He hit his fist on the magical barrier, feeling the all-too familiar crackle-and-sting. "You said you were going to find another way!" He yelled. "Khadgar!"

This was the feeling he hated most. He hated being on the outside looking in. He hated that when the people he loved needed him most, he was forever beating against walls, looking in from the outside. He couldn't have born his son for his wife, but he would have. He couldn't have led Llane's army for him, but he should have done that too. He should have done something, anything to keep his son from battle. 

He should have seen the signs in Medivh.

Then here was Khadgar, again taking on something he should never have to do alone, again forcing him to bear witness to his possible destruction. _Caging him._

_Everything was moving too fast._

"You let me help!" He screamed, and leapt at the ward again, only to be knocked down by it. 

#

Arcane energy arced between Khadgar's fingers, and he winced as he tried to keep control of it. He'd taken on far too much on purpose, because the more he had to pull from for this, the better chance he wouldn't run into a bad situation.

"I'm sorry!" he called out to Lothar—he'd hoped to be done with this one way or another before Lothar managed to get here, because even if Lothar could help, it was too dangerous for him. Keeping the shield up around him during the whole spell would be an unforeseen complication, but it was necessary.

" _Ante belaros rakir zekul,_ " he chanted, the runes going from a pulsing glow to a steady, overly bright glow. He had to use the demonic language for this spell, and the words felt wrong even just saying them. He reached out to the fel—drenched conduits, letting his energy latch onto them, preparing for the spell to take effect. " _Modas laz tichar...adare asj maladath!_ "

Arcane energy flooded the conduits, but focusing on the juncture where the pathways met this plane that Azeroth was on; the sooner he could overwhelm those points, the better. But the drain was immense, and he immediately dropped down to one knee, trying to control the flow of magic; it was like trying to direct a raging river. He clenched his jaw and the glow in his eyes brightened with the effort, and the shield around Lothar began to weaken.

 _No_ , he thought, his mind now split—he needed to do something, and fast. He'd never cast and maintained two spells at once, and this really wasn't the time to try, but he didn't have any other choice—if that shield broke, Lothar would die.

He shifted one hand toward Lothar, drawing away from the main flow of magic. " _Anar'alah, ama noral'arkhana!_ " he snapped, switching to the Thalassian language, and suddenly, the shield shrank inward, becoming more of a shield over Lothar's skin than around him. On the bright side, it was smaller and easier to maintain. But it also didn't keep Lothar from moving around; he would have full mobility now, along with the protection of the spell.

The extra spell casting took its toll. Khadgar dropped down to his hands and knees and the glow in his eyes flickered, the spell drawing the last of the arcane energy from him. If those conduits weren't overwhelmed soon, the spell would start taking from his life energy instead.

#

"No!" Suddenly free to move, Lothar darted forward, almost grabbing Khadgar before realizing he shouldn't distract him. "Take all of it! If you need it, take it all!" 

He proffered his arms, encased as they were in blue energy, but Khadgar made no move to follow his demands.

He slapped the hard stone floor in frustration. The light in Khadgar's eyes was waning. He wished he could say he'd never felt so helpless in his life, but this was becoming a familiar feeling.

"You can do this, Khadgar," he said, putting all the faith and strength he could give into those few words.

Now how was he going to help him? 

Khadgar had said that life was needed to close the conduits. Khadgar's was out of the question, and at that moment he'd really prefer not to use his own —the mage was going to need his help getting out of there if things went further south.

The arcane was a form of life. That's what Khadgar's solution was.

So where could he get more of that, without having any control over magic?

It hit him then. 

The tower itself was infested with the very type of life they needed.

He smiled at the mage's bent head. "I'll be back. Hold on."

He streaked as fast as he could from the room, down the stairs and onto the first landing he could find. It was a great room, and it was practically crackling with the arcane.

"You've wanted someone to attack. I know you have! So here I am! Come and get me, cowards!"

He felt the moment he had their attention,  because the buzzing in the room went still, as if holding its breath, before he could feel the push of air as they surged forward.

"Oh, hell," Lothar muttered, stumbling over himself in his haste to lead them up to where they could do some good.

"Prepare youself! I found you more power, kid!" He burst into the room, hoping Khadgar had managed to keep himself alive.

  
#

Khadgar wasn't about to use Lothar as any kind of fuel for this fire; that would make him no better than Gul'dan. He wouldn't have been able to live with himself. 

He tried to latch onto Lothar's words, tried to keep pulling from what little energy he could from himself, but he couldn't keep it up forever. He moaned lowly and his vision swam as Lothar said something else—Khadgar wasn't sure what—then the warrior was gone.

Just a little more. Just a little longer, he thought, but it wasn't much longer before his whole body shuddered and the glow in his eyes faded entirely. The runes flickered around him as he felt the spell begin pulling at him instead of the magic, and for a moment, he just wished Lothar had stayed. 

He was getting dizzy and weak when he hears Lothar's yell as he entered the room, and Khadgar lifted his head in surprise, feeling the influx of energy. He immediately realized what Lothar had done—and even though Khadgar hadn't wanted to use any souls to complete this, either the souls of the living or the deceased, he knew he didn't have much left to give. He lifted his hand toward the doorway, the blue light weak and flickering around his hand, but the moment the spirits were close enough, he grabbed and _pulled_.

The rush of strength was enough. He felt the conduits shutting down, one after another, self destructing under the overwhelming influx of the spell. His eyes lit up once again, and he renewed the thin shield around Lothar once more just as he felt that energy about to run dry.

When it did, he was so close to succeeding—only a few more conduits. The light is his eyes flickered out again and he braced his hand back on the floor, feeling the spell take hold of him again.

Just a little longer. He was so close—but he was so dizzy, so weak, and his heart felt like it was skipping every other beat.

"L—Lothar," he managed, his voice shaky and _wrecked_. The light around him was now faintly green as the fel pulled at what little strength he had left.

#

"Khadgar!" Lothar shouted. "Stop that! Take it, don't give it _back_ , spell-chucker!" What did he think he was doing?! Lothar's wards were last on the list of what was important.

They needed _more._

Khadgar's pure light was turning green with fel.

With his heart hammering in his chest, he hoped to whatever Gods were listening that the evil entity from his first trip to the tower was still present, and still had an interest in torturing Khadgar.

But by the Light, this was going to feel like razors on his tongue.

"Being!" He screeched. "Do you recognize me? You told me I would be the one to kill this Guardian when the time came. I claim my right. Show yourself and tell me how to stop him. He's being overrun by the fel."

Lothar, his back to Khadgar's bent and trembling form, closed his eyes against the sudden stinging. He opened them up, unleashing his fury at Karazhan at large. "Show yourself!" He hit the pommel of his sword against the wall, and it clanged through the tower.

There was a low hiss, like steam, and then suddenly the distinct feeling of being watched. "I'll take him for myself!" The creature cackled, and Lothar spun just in time to see the misty being go for Khadgar.

Lothar _lunged_ , unthinking, and tried to grab it. Corporeal or not, it was not going to touch the mage while he lived.

Both Lothar and the creature went flying apart, an unnatural scream going up in what seemed like his very mind.

The blue shield around him crackled.

Eyes widening, he let out a low sound of amazement.

_He could hit the arcane?_

He could hit the arcane.

"Khadgar!" He yelled. "Khadgar, take it! Take it, it's here!" Lothar launched himself at it again, beating it back with all the rage he'd kept pent up while he was caged.

  
#

At first, Khadgar was certain that he'd died, that this was some kind of nightmare, because Lothar wouldn't say that. He _wouldn't_.

But about the time the spirit appeared, he realized what Lothar had been trying to do. The spirit was strong; the fact that it had tricked him by imitating the last Guardian and that it had passed his wards was proof.

It would be enough—he hoped.

Pain like searing fire through his whole body hit him like a kick from a stallion, and he nearly buckled under it, fighting to brace himself against the green, sickly glow of the fel. He couldn't do this; it was too much, far too much, and he could feel his own life ebbing away.

Then he felt the spirit over him, and the clash of arcane.

He lifted his head to see Lothar fighting back the spirit— _the shield, it's built of arcane, it made perfect sense_ —and he desperately clung to what little strength he had left. He reached out and plunged one hand right into the spirit, and there was a painful, unworldly shriek as he pulled the energy from the spirit and forced it into the conduits.

It was just enough. He felt the last of the conduits start to close, felt the spirit itself die—

—not enough, just barely not enough—

The pain was immense, and all he wanted to do was say he was sorry, that he didn't mean to have been so wrong, but there was no time and he had nothing left to give.

"Lothar—" he managed, but it was too late—at the same time he felt the last conduit close, the blue light of the arcane flashed one last time in his eyes. He crumpled like a puppet with cut strings, the runes around him pulsing and then going out.

#

"No!" The light around Lothar flickered out. He fell to his knees, lifting Khadgar's prone body off the floor and cradling him in his lap. With a shaking hand, he lifted one eyelid, enough to see clear, sightless brown. He ran his finger down the younger man's cheek to his throat, and felt for a pulse.

He didn't breathe for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, he found it. Just the slightest beat against his fingertips.

Not even knowing what he was doing, he pulled Khadgar up and clutched him to his chest, rocking him once before standing and lifting the guardian in his arms.

"You're not allowed to die on me," he hissed. "Not you."

He let out a piercing whistle, and seconds later his gryphon came down from the sky with an answering call. Lothar wasted no time in hopping astride.

He didn't care what was left at Karazhan, or what would get out. Without the mage, they had no chance of stopping it anyway.

"I hope what you did was enough," he murmured, looking at Khadgar's drawn, slack features.

They sped toward Stormwind. Lothar bypassed the gryphon roof, setting up cries and alarms, and went straight for the Cathedral of Light. He hopped off before his mount touched down, and took the stairs at a run.

"Help! Healer! Your regent needs you. Healer!" His words got sharper and more urgent until a man came running. He took one look at the two of them and gestured frantically with his arms, leading them up and into a room set up as a healer's space.

"Wait here. I'll get her," the man said simply, and disappeared.

Lothar gently set Khadgar on a bed, seeking out his pulse again on one wrist.

"Who are you, to demand...?" A woman's voice cried out and was abruptly silenced. "My lord. Of course." There was a rustle of robes. "Stand back. Stand back, you must let go of him for me to work. What happened?"

"He..." Lothar gave her room. She was a middle-aged woman, nondescript, her embroidered robes a spotless white. "He expended too much magic. You're looking at the Guardian of Azeroth. Please..." He coughed as his voice broke. "Help him."

She turned to him, surprised. "The Guardian?" She frowned, and started working. It seemed like only a heartbeat later when she said, "I don't know what I can do for him. I'm sorry. It may be he just needs rest."

"Not good enough-" Lothar clipped out.

"I'm sorry." She held out a hand to stop him from crowding the table again. "We'll just have to be patient. We'll send word to the castle as soon-"

"No!"

"No?"

"No. I'm staying here." He leaned against the wall, exhausted and still, impossibly, drunk.

The healer didn't conceal her sigh. "We'll bring you in seating."

Lothar watched the slight rise and fall of Khadgar's chest.

It was his wife all over again.

For once, Lothar made himself think about what that meant. All the distancing, all the nicknames, the kid and boy and just like Callan's and how wrong all of that was.

He just hadn't wanted to admit how he felt, because the last time he'd really let himself feel his wife's dead hand slipped from his grasp and...

"Here," a servant came in with a chair and blankets. He gave a bow and left.

Choking, Lothar collapsed into it, and pressed his face to his hands.

It wasn't long before both palms were wet.

#

For most of the time after, Khadgar slept like the dead. He nearly was so, especially in the first days; but eventually, his spirit began to recover. 

He drifted between nightmares and nothingness, and a few times, he thought he heard Lothar's voice or felt someone's touch through the fog of his mind. He held onto that, clung to those small moments of comfort, because otherwise he felt like he might give in to the void. 

When he finally started to come to, everything felt distant. His own magic felt just out of reach, his mana not nearly recovered, all his energy having gone into repairing the damage done to his spirit. He tried to remember what happened, but it was all a blur—leaving Stormwind, getting to Karazhan, starting the spell—and then nothing. 

He was alive, though; he knew that much.

He could sense someone nearby, and he forced his eyes open, blinking a few times to try and clear his vision. He still felt like sleep might pull him back down at any moment. 

#

Lothar was leaning with his head against the wall and his legs splayed, looking at the high ceiling of the room he'd spent the last several days in. It really was a brilliant feat of architecture, if he'd cared.

He didn't though. What he cared about was that he'd had several days to begin with to stare at it.

His sister had come, bringing him food and trying to coax him into leaving a guard, so that he could go home to the castle and get proper rest. She'd even offered to stay in his place. That had almost gotten him up, but the second his boot hit the doorway a deep, cold panic had set in, and he'd shrugged her off. The Queen stayed with him instead, at least for a few hours. They didn't have the luxury of leaving the palace and all of its duties unattended for more than that. At least not over something so inconsequential as one man laying ill while he was being properly cared for by the best healers in Stormwind.

Lothar hit the heel of his foot on the floor in frustration. "Wake up!" He hissed.

Then shot straight up as he realized he'd caught slight movement from the corner of his eye.

Khadgar's eyes were open.

His throat closed up. He had no explanation for why he was there. He was the regent. There was no reason, no reason, for him to have kept such a long vigil for a friend.

He forced himself to his feet anyway. "Healer!" He called. "Healer, he's awake!"

Lothar crept closer to the bed, half—afraid he'd see green flickering in those warm eyes.

They were Khadgar's own, though. He let out his breath.

"Have a nice rest?" He said.

So far from what he wanted to say it was laughable.

#

It took Khadgar a few moments to realize who was hovering over him, and he blinked again just to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He must not have been out long, if Lothar was here still; he couldn't imagine he would hang around.

He tried to speak, but his throat was dry and it came out as a ragged cough, though it was only a moment before a healer was at his side and pressing her hand gently to his throat with a soft spoken healing spell.

"There, that should be better. Do you remember what happened, Guardian?" She asked, in a tone that meant she wasn't asking specifically, but more making sure his mind was intact. He hesitated.

"Some of it...?" he said with uncertainty, and she smiled gently. 

"That's alright. You've been out for over a week, so don't push yourself," she replied, and he stared in shock.

"A _week_?"

Light, what had happened that he'd been unconscious for over a week?

#

"Mm." Lothar exchanged an amused glance with the healer. All the anger he felt at Khadgar for putting his life in jeopardy could wait. Just hearing his voice dissipated some of it already. "You've been lazy," he teased again.

His eyes raked over Khadgar's face. His eyes seemed blurry, but they were gaining focus as he watched. He gave the mage a smile and gripped the edge of the bed so he wouldn't grab Khadgar himself as he wanted to. "It'll come back to you," he suggested softly. "You went to Karazhan by yourself."

He couldn't keep the bite out of his words that time.

#

Khadgar started to try to sit up, but the healer pressed a firm hand to his shoulder to keep him down. "Don't even think about it. You may be the Guardian, but you were at death's door, young man," she scolded. "Bed rest. For at least 24 hours. Non negotiable."

Khadgar groaned. He felt like he'd been laying here for years—but she was probably in the right, considering he also felt like his legs might not hold him were he to try to stand up. 

"I remember...leaving here. Starting the spell," he said with a frown, looking up at Lothar with concern. "Did it work? Did I finish the spell?"

The healer rolled her eyes. "I'm going to get you some water and soup. Regent, please make sure he doesn't attempt anything stupid in the ten minutes I'm gone?" she said, giving them both firm looks before she turned and left. 

#

"That's a tall order," Lothar answered her retreating back. It was impossible to keep the fear—born anger from his voice that time. "Yes, you finished. I don't know if it worked, I'm no Guardian. It seemed like everything was..." Lothar searched for the right word. _Dead_ was the first thought that came to mind. "Quiet, when we left."

He looked over Khadgar again, and decided that he seemed as if he would live.

"I told you to tell me when you left. I told you you would have my help. What were you thinking?"

His voice was soft.

His emotions were roiling, unable to settle between relief, love, irritation, fear, and rage.

A week was not enough time to calm him down, not when all he had to do was stare as Khadgar lay immobile, waiting for when the shallow breaths would stop completely, just as they had for another in memory.

#

Khadgar swallowed hard and looked away. It was good news that Karazhan was quiet; it would've been much less so if the spell hadn't worked.

But now there was the guilt at the _disappointment_ in Lothar's voice.

"You didn't want me to do it in the first place. But finding another way would've taken too long," he insisted. "I knew it had to be done. I thought..."

_Thought what? That you wouldn't need any help? That you would have lost your nerve if he tried to stop you?_

"I'm sorry," he finally said, shifting and wincing at a sharp pain down his back. Yeah, he'd definitely taken a beating, physically and mentally. "I was just...the last thing I wanted was for Gul'dan to realize what kind of power he could tap into at Karazhan. With that kind of fel source, he could have torn through your armies like paper."

It was his job, after all, as Guardian. He was meant to protect this realm and the people in it, whether or not he was ready. And if Stormwind's armies were to fall...well, the rest wouldn't last long. 

#

Despite himself, Lothar reached out and helped Khadgar shifted on the bed to a more comfortable position. His eyes were manic as he listened to Khadgar's explanation.

What he hated the most was that what he said was the truth.

It was only his own, personal attachment that made it seem like such a terrible decision. 

"You did your duty," he capitulated finally, regent to Guardian, instead of Lothar to a friend. "And Azeroth would thank you if it could understand what you've done."

Lothar straightened. He had done what could, which of course amounted to nothing anyway. 

"I'll have the healer come back to tend to you. Queen Taria will want your report when you're able. I'll tell her what I can."

#

It wasn't what Khadgar expected to hear. It was so formal and stiff that it took him back a little; was Lothar that angry with him, that they'd gone back to this tone? It felt more like when they'd first met than when they'd shared a battle against a demon.

"Right," he finally said, the word a bit rough as his stomach twisted. Light, he'd made such a mistake—he wondered just how much damage he'd done to one of the few friendships he had.

It made him realize just how much he'd enjoyed not being lonely for once in his life.

"If there's a punishment for disobeying an order from the regent, I understand if it applies to me," he offered up, because in the Kirin Tor, disobeying an order—even for the good of Azeroth—wouldn't fly. You may be a hero, but you'd be a hero in a cell for at least a few months. "Just give me a little time to try and remember, and I can have a report ready."

#

Lothar paused by the door but didn't turn, not trusting himself to look at Khadgar and still be able to leave. He dragged a fingernail down the doorframe. "The most law—abiding criminal in the Alliance," he quipped. 

He stared at the woodgrain, as if it could tell him what to do. 

He never had been good at leaving things be.

"Llane threw me in a cell on more than one occasion," he said finally, coaxing a splinter of wood from the door. "But never for disobeying him. Only for doing the wrong thing, or doing something for the wrong reasons."

#

"I was already a fugitive. I suppose there's not much harm in adding another criminal title," Khadgar pointed out, only half joking as he struggled to sit up against the wall at the head of the bed. Every muscle in him seemed to ache, and his head was throbbing, probably from the lack of water.

"I am sorry if I worried you," he blurted out, his tone just barely this side of desperate. If Lothar hated him for this, he would have...well, no one. 

Medivh's words echoed in his head again; _it's the loneliness that makes us weak_. It seemed he was weak enough without the loneliness. 

"I know it wasn't... _ideal_. But if I didn't act and something happened..." he started, and then he let out a humorless laugh. "Well, I wouldn't be much of a Guardian, would I?"

He shook his head, looking down at his hands. "Not that I've been doing a great job so far, right?" 

#

"No, of course not. You've only saved the world twice," Lothar laughed. "If this is what the Kirin Tor did to you, it's a good thing you left."

It almost physically hurt him to hear Khadgar so unsure of himself after the miraculous feats he'd done, largely by himself. 

It was the note of desperation in the mage's voice that made him sigh and come back into the room. He stood several feet from Khadgar's bed, 

It was a safe distance.

He'd never been good with expressing care with words. He'd had too much heartache of his own to bear listening to tales of woe without making inappropriate, deflecting comments. He was too prone to depression, and only his closest friends—of whom, Taria remained—knew to look for it. 

But he had made that mistake with his son, not encouraging him enough, and he had promised himself to try to do better. 

The words, though, just wouldn't come. "You're something else," he said instead.

#

Khadgar chuckled. "I didn't leave because they were discouraging," he pointed out, though his tone made it obvious that he wasn't about to willingly elaborate. 

"And I wouldn't say I saved the world. At least not on my own, anyway," he added after a moment, a light blush tinting his face. After all, he couldn't have succeeded either time without Lothar's help.

He looked up at Lothar in surprise when he returned, and then raised an eyebrow. "I'm...not sure if I'm meant to take that as a compliment," he admitted with a weak, nervous smile. He wasn't sure if Lothar was teasing him again or not—it was likely, if he took history into any consideration. 

But the look on Lothar's face didn't speak of teasing or insult. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but it wasn't that. 

#

"Next time," Lothar wet his lips. He was so very, very sure there would be a next time. "Next time, get me first. We'll plan how to do it together."

He didn't bother to hide that his words were a plea, not a command.

 _I don't have anyone else._  But he'd never say that to anyone again, now would he? It was like a curse coming from him. 

#

"I would say with all luck there won't be a next time, but we both know what kind of luck we have," Khadgar said, just as the healer returned with a tray of hot soup and a cup of water. She rolled her eyes at the sight of Khadgar sitting up against the wall, but she didn't say anything about it.

"'I consulted the mages of the Mage Quarter about your condition whilst you were unconscious. Not by name, mind you; the regent, the queen, and the cathedral guards are the only ones who know you're here," she said, setting down the tray of food on the small bedside table. "They advised me that a mage with your severity of ailment should refrain from magic use for at least a couple of weeks, and then _start slow_."

Khadgar, of course, looked at her as if she'd suggested burning down Stormwind cathedral to make a cozy campfire.

  
#

Meanwhile, Lothar brightened. "Thank you," he said fervently to the poor healer, who looked bewildered. "Thank you for your service."

"I'm...just doing my duty," she had enough poise to say primly. 

Lothar grinned widely at her as she left, then transferred his smile to Khadgar. 

"There," he said, satisfied. "You wanted a punishment for your sins. Be careful what you ask for."

He bounced on the balls of his feet, feeling significantly more cheerful than he had moments ago.

Not that he expected the mage to obey her, of course. It did mean though that if he was that wiped out, teleportation would likely be a matter of impossible. 

And that meant Lothar could keep an eye on what sort of trouble he was getting into.

#

Khadgar gave Lothar and the healer a suspicious look, that quickly transferred just to Lothar when she left in bewilderment. He rolled his eyes at Lothar's words.

"Oh, don't look so satisfied," he muttered, taking the cup of water in shaking hands and taking a long drink. He certainly _felt_ like he'd been sleeping for a week.

But the water helped quite a bit; he wasn't sure if he could handle the soup right now though. "I can't just sit around for that long. Even with those conduits cut off—assuming they are—there's a lot of clean up to do at Karazhan. There's still the fel corruption to deal with."

Never mind that his voice was weak and shaky.

And that he'd probably fall on his face if he tried to stand. 

He wasn't _used_ to sitting still for that long.

  
#

Lothar's good humor evaporated. He had given up on giving Khadgar orders though—it was embarrassing for both of them. "Perhaps I will just throw you in the barracks."

Lothar sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, and drew a hand over his face. 

  
#

Khadgar realized just how frustrated Lothar must be, and he fidgeted uncomfortably, wishing he could smack himself. His own inability to just take time off was getting him in trouble again, it seemed.

"Sorry," he said with a smile and a halfhearted shrug, setting his cup aside. "Maybe you should. I mean, it's not like I try to be so...difficult, I just...this is why I got caught up in all this in the first place; can't seem to keep myself out of trouble."

It was only half a joke. He really did tend to get himself into bad situations with his inability to keep himself out of dangerous situations, but before now, it had never _mattered_ to anyone.

It was still difficult adjusting to the fact that it seemed to matter to Lothar. Why, he still wasn't sure—maybe he was just protective in general.

It would make sense, after all he'd lost.

#

Lothar leaned back on his elbows on the blankets, on top of Khadgar's shins. "It was always Llane that tried to keep _me_  out of trouble," he said, letting himself get caught up in memory.

The last thing Llane had done with him, in fact, was to throw him in the barracks to calm down.

Light, he missed his friends.

  
#

Khadgar smirked a little. "So you're getting a taste of your own medicine, right?" he teased, not bothering to kick Lothar off him. Even if he'd wanted to, he wasn't sure he could. 

He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes for a few moments. Fleeting memories of the fight at Karazhan were starting to come back to him—shielding Lothar from the spell, running out of energy, barely keeping his friend shielded.

"You weren't hurt, were you?" he asked softly. "I tried to keep the shield up. If you'd taken the full force of that spell, it would have killed you."

#

Lothar smiled a little to himself, pleased he was allowed some contact. "No. It was quite effective." He gave Khadgar an assessing look, his warrior's mind drawn back to strategy. "And actually, I'd like you to do it again, when your strength returns. Do you have to be present for it to hold? How many do you think you can keep up at once?"

He thought back to the fight. "It allowed me some power to hit the arcane beings when they attacked."

#

Khadgar gave Lothar a _look_. "And how often are you fighting against arcane beings? A shield that thin only works against them because the energy cancels out. Anything stronger, or say, _corporeal_ , and all it would do is give your opponent a tingly feeling as they bashed your head in," he pointed out, that dry humor coming through.

"To answer your questions, though, I would have to be present to hold it. I'm not sure how many I could hold at once, since...well, I'd never used that spell quite like that before."

Probably not the most comforting thing for Lothar to hear, but it was the truth, anyway. He was just glad it had worked. 

#

Lothar nodded. "Pity," he said. "I had hoped...when we were fighting the Orcs, it seemed like the shield you brought up kept them away from you well enough. If we could use a spell like that for armor, in the way you used it on me in the tower..." He shrugged, letting it go. 

"You should eat, spell-chucker." He nodded toward the cooling bowl of soup.

#

Khadgar thought for a moment, one hand lifting to rub at his chin. "I've only made immovable barriers, like the ones I used in the ambush and in the tower. I would have to learn how to move them while still maintaining the structural integrity, but...keeping the tensile strength while changing it to a more elastic form would be the tough part. There's a couple of books I noticed during my research that might have references that could allow me to at least try it out," he said, obviously lost in thought again until Lothar mentioned the food.

He hesitated uncertainly. "I'm not sure I've the stomach for it right now..."

#

Lothar half—listened to Khadgar's explanation, watering it down to the simple "not yet" that it was. He regretted deeply having brought the mage back to thinking about spells and war.

He sat up with a sigh. "I should let you rest." He pushed himself to his feet, stretching.

On the other hand, Khadgar having his mind on research meant the mage would be in the library, not wearing himself out at Karazhan.

#

Khadgar was about to insist that he was fine—even though he _was_ really tired—when a guard suddenly stepped into the doorway and saluted.

"Sir," he said. "Our scouts have reported a small war party of Orcs just south of Lakeshire. The city is requesting reinforcements."

Khadgar clenched his fists, for a moment frustrated that he wasn't in any shape to help; then, he gave Lothar a weak smile. "Looks like duty calls, your majesty," he said, sounding formal enough to the guard, but Lothar would recognize the barely—there teasing tone.

#

Lothar acknowledged the guard before patting Khadgar's leg with a pointed look. "Rest. You're no good to us tired."

He walked with the guard into the main hall of the Cathedral. "Keep a post on him. Tell Queen Taria if he leaves."

"Yes, sire." The guard saluted.

"Lakeshire is too close," Lothar said, frowning. "When were they spotted?" 

"A day ago, but they're gaining ground quickly."

Lothar swore, then apologized profusely to the multiple priests who sent glares and blessings his way. At least he was itching for a fight; a week of inactivity was almost more than he could stand. 

"How many?" 

"A small army, sire."

Lothar cursed again and left before he could be thrown out. "Gather as many men as you can and get them ready. We'll march as soon as we are able." 


	2. Second Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Khadgar and Lothar get themselves into trouble with Dwarves.

#

When they got to Lakeshire, Lothar found the Orcs had divided themselves between the town and Stonewatch Keep. They were smart, these Orcs, trying to split his forces. They were already outnumbered to begin with, and having to fight two battles proved to be untenable. They were able to save Lakeshire, but Stonewatch was overrun, and Lothar found himself fighting an offensive battle against the Alliance's own well-built structures while the Orcs laughed at him and killed his people like they were little more than ants. 

Finally, enraged past rational thought, Lothar charged the Orcs' lieutenant, the one he heard them call Tharil'zun, or Lothar's personal nickname for him, big and ugly. Which is how he found himself dodging axe swings while clinging with his thighs to a large, green armored neck. Which is ultimately how he found himself flying through the air into the tower so hard that it knocked the stones loose. 

Which is how he ended in that damnable cage, bloodied and concussed. 

At least, he thought fuzzily, the Orcs were arguing.

He wished Garona was there to translate.

_That cursed traitor._

"Once I get out of here," Lothar sing-songed, "I'm going to wear your tusk as a necklace."

The Orc managed to hit him through the bars of the cage, meaty hand and all. Lothar kicked at his fingers, and only got a pleased sneer in return.

#

It had been days since they'd heard from Lothar and his troops. Khadgar was restless already, and even though he wasn't nearly recovered, the Queen was sympathetic enough to let him move to his own room and pick out some books to read through—as long as he promised 'no spell casting'.

He did promise. That was before they received word that most of Lothar's men had been wiped out, and the few remaining had been taken prisoner. No word if Lothar was among the survivors, but Khadgar wasn't taking that chance.

Recovered or not, he owed that man his life, and he would be rotting in the ground before he left Lothar to possibly be a captive of the Orcs.

The Queen had already sent troops by horseback, but that wasn't fast enough for Khadgar. He decided to save his strength, though—instead of porting to an unfamiliar area, he went to the flight master and 'borrowed' Lothar's gryphon. 

...and maybe polymorphed the flight master to get away with it.

He landed on the cliff overlooking the Orc camp just at sunset, staff in hand, told the gryphon to head home, and surveyed the area. He immediately spotted Lothar and a few of his men in a cage in the middle of the camp; Lothar looked alive, bloodied, but angry. 

Khadgar knew he should wait for backup—but there was no telling how long it would take for those troops to arrive.

He was no military mastermind, but he knew where Lothar would have posted sentries—and sure enough, that's where he found the Orc sentries. He made his way quietly around the camp, taking out the guards as quickly as possibly with the least 'flashy' spells he could manage. That only left about...40 in the center of the camp.

40 Orcs against one mage.

Yep, Lothar was going to kill him. If he died, Lothar would probably find a necromancer and have him raised just to kill him again.

But Khadgar had a plan. If anything went wrong, yes, he was going to die a horrible, bloody death. But still, he had to try. He took a deep breath, let it out, and then his eyes lit up with arcane energy.

" _An isera'duna_ ," he said softly, and his physical form shifted into the nether—a temporary invisibility spell. Clutching his staff tightly, he ran to the center of the camp, just outside the cage, feeling the spell beginning to wane. He lifted the staff, took another breath—and then slammed it into the dirt.

" _Turus t'as'e nei!_ " he shouted, and ice sprang out from the ground in a circle around the staff, the frost nova shooting outward and freezing anything touching the ground in place—which meant none of the Orcs within a hundred yards could move. He made sure the spell didn't touch himself or the cage, though.

He could already feel exhaustion tugging at him; he'd never done these spells on this scale, let alone when he was weakened. He wasn't prepared for the axe that came flying at his head, and though he managed to deflect it with an arcane blast to keep from being decapitated, it still clipped his right shoulder and sent him stumbling, warm blood making his sleeve stick to his skin. ""F-Felo-melorn!" he said firmly, and instead of ice, searing fire roared across the ground in place of the frost nova—and now the Orcs were more preoccupied with, well, being on fire than with attacking him.

He held his injured arm in close and threw a shield up around himself and the cage, then ran to the bars; he needed to finish before the Orcs recovered. "Don't move, I'm going to port you," he said to Lothar and his men, already feeling the barrier being struck.

He was  _so_  tired, but he had to hold it; just long enough for this one portal.

#

Lothar had to shield his eyes from the bright glow of the arcane as, impossibly, Khadgar appeared out of nowhere and proceeded to stall the entire Orc army. The very army, that is to say, that had just decimated his forces and put him in a cage.

He itched to get his hands on big and ugly. Now, he might have a chance, with the mage by his side. But there was no time, and he'd be risking more than his own life with his troops still surrounded.

" _I've_ been trying to protect _you_ ," he said, disgusted with himself and confused about how someone like Khadgar could even exist. 

His eyes hadn't missed the wound in Khadgar's shoulder, even as blurry as they were, but there were more pressing things to worry about, and Khadgar was his soldiers' only hope. The Orcs were simply stronger, and they were outnumbered. He took a step toward Khadgar, stumbling without noticing, just to place himself to catch the mage when he was sure to collapse on the other side of the portal.

"How did you even get here?" he muttered as the mage breathed out the last of his spell. 

#

Khadgar smiled and shrugged a little impishly. "I may have borrowed your gryphon," he admitted, and just as he could hold the shield no longer and it shattered, he threw the light built up in his hand down toward the ground. Light swirled around the cage and Khadgar, and just before the first Orc stepped into the circle, the portal flared and vanished, leaving an empty cage behind.

Khadgar knew better than to try and aim anywhere terribly specific when doing a multi—person portal whilst exhausted; they appeared in the courtyard of Stormwind castle, and with everyone now safe, the exhaustion really set in.

He was quite thankful for Lothar having moved close, because he clutched his shoulder with a gasp, dropped his staff, and stumbled right into the warrior's arms, and would have dropped right to the ground were it not for the support. Whatever mana-based strength he'd recovered, he'd just drained it once again—but he had no regrets, to say the least.

The poor guards in the courtyard were staring wide—eyed, unsure of what they just witnessed, or what to do about it.

#

The light from Khadgar's spells were reflected in Lothar's eyes. It flickered out as the mage folded into him. 

"Hurry," he commanded the dazed guard closest to him. "Get a healer. The Guardian is hurt."

The mage's shoulder was dripping slick blood onto his hand, but somehow that worried him less than the injuries he couldn't see, the ones caused by forces out of his control. "Easy," he murmured, and eased Khadgar to the ground, so he could crouch next to him. 

"That really couldn't have gone any worse," he muttered to Khadgar to keep him focused, as he tugged cloth from his own clothes to press over the wound. "I want to be angry with you, but you saved our lives. I can't even figure out why they hadn't killed my people. A sacrifice, maybe? Or hostages for trade. Or maybe Gul'dan is still taking prisoners for the fel. We need to learn more about those Orcs."

A healer came running toward them, followed closely by Queen Taria. "Lothar!" She cried. "Thank the Light. We haven't had word from you and I feared the worst." Her keen eyes took in both of the men in front of her as the healer knelt by Khadgar, shooing Lothar away. She began incanting her holy words in a soothing stream. 

"Lothar, look at me," Taria was frowning. "Are you hurt?"

Lothar shook his head, but it was more to clear the buzzing than in answer to her question. 

"I'm fine," he said, not really sure if it was a lie or not. He'd had concussions before. He would make sure Khadgar wasn't going to bleed out before worrying the healer with more tasks. "You." He nodded at another guard. "Take my men and women to the infirmary. They've suffered injuries as well." He turned back to Taria, and jerked his head toward Khadgar, making his vision swim for a moment. "We're only all right thanks to him. I'm still not sure what he did, but he immobilized an entire army, Taria. My troupe of trained, seasoned soldiers couldn't do in days what he did in mere moments."

She had moved closer to him. "You're concussed," she said flatly. 

"We lost Stonewatch Keep," he said, cutting her off. "The Orcs will be using that as a stronghold now in the Redridge Mountains. I fear they'll move closer soon."

Taria nodded, her face worried. "You want to go back."

"We can't let them keep it," he said, his lips a thin, grim line.

#

Khadgar wasn't about to start hypothesizing on the motives of the Orcs; he was just glad to have gotten Lothar and his men out of there in time. He let Lothar lower him to the ground, though, because otherwise he felt like he would fall. He breathed out shakily as the healer began her work, slowing the blood loss and easing the pain.

"I just had the element of surprise. They won't fall for the same trick again, I'm sure," he said, blushing a little at Lothar's description of what he'd done. Really, the fact that the Orcs weren't expecting it was the whole reason it worked, or he would have had more than one axe thrown at his head the second he froze them in place. "Also, if Gul'dan didn't know you have a new mage in your army, he sure will now. I didn't have the strength to boost that flamestrike; most of those Orcs will live to spread the word."

He could have intensified the flamestrike, but then he wouldn't have had the strength for the portal back, and that obviously wasn't an option. But it also meant Gul'dan would be aware of him now, and aware of some of his capabilities. It was one advantage lost.

"I've done what I can. Go easy on that arm or it you'll make it worse all over again," the healer said before moving on to Lothar. Khadgar started to stand up, but that was a mistake; woozy, he sank back down to the ground.

"They're dug in deep in the keep and the pass," he added to Taria. He was, as before, not a military strategist, but this much seemed clear.  "They're probably planning to reinforce it, make it a forward camp and a stronghold to strike at Stormwind."

#

"Can't be helped," Lothar murmured regretfully as the healer tilted his head from side to side. He blinked, surprised and pleased to hear Khadgar accurately assess the situation. 

_And where is that little mage, who used to follow him around with such a doe-eyed expression?_  It was hard to believe they were the same person. It had been such a short time since he had first found Khadgar trespassing in his barracks. He had totally misjudged him. 

_Perhaps,_  he thought, _perhaps together, they could fight this invasion._

Taria bent and helped Khadgar to his feet. She was giving Lothar a look he didn't love, and had never loved. It was that look that said she'd figured out his thoughts before he himself had. 

"If we go back immediately, perhaps they won't be expecting it. Perhaps their armies will still be weakened by Khadgar's attack. I wish I could say we did more out there but Light, Taria. I've never seen anything like them. At least we saved Lakeshire." He frowned, then added, "For now."

He sent a surreptitious glance at Khadgar. Though the mage seemed weak, the major wounds at least seemed to be healed.

He wasn't going to afford to be able to baby him as he had been, if he kept insisting on putting himself in harm's way. 

  
#

Khadgar thanked Taria for her help, still a little taken aback that the Queen of Stormwind was someone he could call a friend; it's hardly what he expected when he first ran from his place among the Kirin Tor. Once on his feet, though, he gave Lothar a look of disbelief.

"You _must_ be concussed," he said with a frown, rubbing at his aching shoulder lightly. "You want to go back in there right away, with a fraction of your army, while you're injured? And you think _my_ ideas are dangerous."

He paused, a determined look coming over his face. "Besides, when you go back to drive them out, I'm coming with you. And I would be all but useless right now," he muttered, knowing full well that he'd already not been at his best even before he took this side trip and did a bunch of serious spell casting.

Speaking of serious spell casting...he winced a little, and then gave Taria an apologetic look. "I, uh...owe your flight master an apology. He may have attempted to stop me going after Lothar. And I, uh...might have turned him into a rabbit for a minute or so."

Khadger did feel a bit bad about that. The man had just been trying to do his job, after all. 

#

"Khadgar!" Queen Taria said reproachfully, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes.

Lothar frowned. "If we leave them to regroup, they'll only get stronger," he said. "We can't let them bring in reinforcements." Suddenly he snapped his fingers. "That's it. Do you think you can polymorph an army, spell-chucker?" Then, to himself, "No, that's right. You said it only works on the weak-minded—" 

"Let's not tell Dungar that," Taria said with a shake of her head.

"—and as much as I hate to admit it, these brutes aren't stupid. Not all of them. We'd need more than just that spell. Could you cast that and the other—the frost-thingie?—at the same time?"

Lothar, now in his element, tacked on, "That still wouldn't be enough. It wore off too quickly. We'll need the help of the Wildhammer clan, and luckily they owe me a favor."

"Which means," Taria said firmly, "That you will have to wait. The Hinterlands is a long way off, and your mage isn't well enough to do what you're asking."

"My mage," Lothar mouthed silently to himself, his eyebrow raised at her.

"Perhaps we can go to the Dark Irons in the Burning Steppes in the meantime and strengthen our alliances," he mused. "It would help to have a stronger Northern front."

#

Khadgar wasn't sure how much help he would be if they started on diplomatic missions to the Dwarves. Dwarves were notoriously mistrustful of magic, and after the whole debacle with Medivh, they probably had no interest in consorting with mages.

It made him feel a little helpless, to know they might need the aid of a people who would put no trust or credibility to anything he had to say.

"Sorry, polymorph is a one at a time spell," he said to Lothar, though he looked amused by the idea. Mages had tried before to polymorph multiple people at once, but after the first, they tended to break fast—and at the worst of times. "And the 'frost thingie' was a frost nova, which doesn't tend to hold long, hence why I followed it up with an immediate flame strike."

Really, he had been depending on far too much luck in that whole scenario. 

"I'm not sure how much use I'll be if you want to gain the aid of the Dwarves. They never put much trust in mages, and after Medivh..." he trailed off and shook his head with a frown. "You know how they can be about magic. I may make complicate things just by being present."

He was oblivious to Lothar's confusion at Taria's 'my mage' quip, as he usually was to those little social intricacies. 

#

Lothar considered his words. "Meet with me later," he suggested. "We can talk about what you can do, when you've rested enough to be of use."

Taria sent him a glare for that one, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out what he'd said wrong. 

The healer and her two helpers who had appeared had moved on to the other soldiers sitting in various states of distress and repose around the courtyard. 

He shook his head. "It would have been a slaughter if they hadn't tried to keep us alive." As it was, they had lost too many. "We need a better strategy. Our usual attacks aren't working. They're just too well-organized."

And strong, and huge. It seemed hopeless if he let himself dwell on it, which he didn't, because the only other option was to fail his people.

Taria, who had been giving him a careful look, turned to Khadgar. "Why don't you go make nice with poor Dungar Longdrink. It will be better for you to be on his good side." She looked very much like she was holding back from chucking Khadgar's chin. "I may need you to go save this brother of mine again."

She moved to link her arms in Lothar's. "I need to speak with Lothar privately. Please come find us later. I'll be wondering if we have a rabbit for a gryphon master permanently."

#

Khadgar's face flushed at her words. "Right. I, uh...don't worry. It doesn't have any permanent side effects. Well, aside from the extremely rare case of intermittent animal noises, but..." he cut himself off there. No need to worry them about their flight master randomly 'bah'ing like a goat at inopportune moments.

Besides, that had just been one time, and one particularly dim—witted human.

...as far as he knew.

He picked up his staff from the ground, not without a wince at the movement of his shoulder. "I'll stop by his post, then...I'll be in my quarters if I'm needed. I actually really do need some rest after that," he admitted, which was...kind of akin to a Dwarf admitting he couldn't hold his liquor. But Khadgar was exhausted to the bone, and even the thought of casting a spell made him feel a little nauseous right now. He really hadn't been in any shape to go tossing spells at an army.

He hesitated, glancing at Lothar, looking as if he was about to say something else—but he seemed to decide against it, hastily half-bowing to the Queen and the regent before heading toward the flight master's post.

The apology was just as awkward as he'd expected, but at least the man was good-natured about it, if a little angry and suspicious. But with that done, Khadgar kept to his word—upon reaching his quarters, he barely managed to set aside his staff and toss his travel cloak on the desk before he collapsed onto the bed and fell right asleep.

#

"I know you're doing your best to look out for him, but I'm worried for him," Taria said, privately, when they'd entered her chambers and closed her door. "He pushes himself too hard. Like someone else I know."

"And you think I'm not?" Lothar muttered, the space between his eyes creasing. 

"You push him too hard."

"What?" He spluttered. "I've done nothing but tell him to remain in Stormwind and rest. He doesn't listen to anyone."

She went over and fixed flowers in a vase whose arrangement really needed no fixing.

But then, who was he to judge. He was no florist.

“Your mage seems to be quite enterprising,” Taria said with a smile. "It was lucky he thought to search for you."

 

“Why do you keep calling him that?” Lothar grumbled. “I can’t control him.”

 

“Yes, but he does seem to watch after you, doesn’t he?” Her lips drew wider in amusement.

 

“Yes, but he’s still not my anything,” Lothar said, going to the window and looking out at Stormwind.

 

“Oh, Lothar,” Taria said, surprised. 

"Don't—" He started, but didn't know how to finish. "Can you leave my personal life alone, for once?"

She went to stand next to him. “I see. I had thought…I had thought that he might grow to be someone like Llane for you. But that’s not it, is it? When you look at him, you see—”

 

“Don’t say her name,” Lothar bit out.

 

Taria gave him a kind, sad look. “Am I right?”

 

“You’re not wrong,” Lothar settled for saying, knowing that drawing it out or avoiding the issue would only get his sister’s interest piqued. That only ever led to bad, meddlesome things when it came to his life. “He’s…” _He was cunning, loyal, kind, and strong,_ he wanted to say. _He has the most beautiful eyes. I could stare at his magic and not breathe for the rest of my life._ “He’s frustrating.”

 

“You used to say that about your wife, when you were getting to know her,” she laughed.

 

“Please...” Lothar gave her an entreating look.

 

“Not everyone has the feelings about their same sex that you do. Has he given any indication…?” Taria looked at him carefully.

 

“No,” Lothar swallowed, “And for that matter, he liked the Orc Garona, as…as I did. It’s not a possibility. I can’t afford to alienate our new Guardian by trying. Stormwind needs him too much.”

 

Taria just came and gently put a hand on his arm.

 

“He does seem frustrating,” she said after a moment, with a little laugh. “Just your type. Pity.”

 

It was enough to coax a chuckle out of him. 

#

Khadgar didn't get much peaceful sleep before a nightmare set in.

He was watching as Gul'dan struck down his people with the fel, getting closer and closer to Lothar in the heat of battle, but he was silenced—the worst spell for a mage to suffer in the midst of battle. He tried again and again to cast something, anything, just to save Lothar, but he couldn't make his tongue work.

He was useless, unable to cast, unskilled with a sword, and Gul'dan's hand was closing around Lothar's throat.

" _Shal ador'ana_!" 

Well, Khadgar was awake now.

Unfortunately, so was probably this entire wing of the castle, given that Khadgar had just _blasted a hole through the stone wall_ with arcane.

Which was troubling enough, even without considering the fact that he'd never broken through stone with one of his spells before.

He dropped down to his hands and knees at the side of the bed, arcane energy still arcing between his fingers, eyes still glowing faintly as he tried to quell the unconscious panic and bring himself under control. He heard his guard throw the door open, and he held up his hand, realizing that the poor guy probably thought the castle was under attack.

"Stay b-back!" he said desperately, trying to get himself back under control. It happened very rarely, but when he lost control and cast spells in a panic in his sleep, it always took a minute to get his magic completely back under control. He didn't want anyone to inadvertently get hurt. 

#

"What in the blazes was that?" Lothar spat, at the same time that Taria cried out, "Are we under attack?"

"Stay here," he pressed her arm. "I'll have the guards bring Varian to you."

He darted from the room, limping of all things because yes, he really had just spent several days as the Orcs’ plaything and healers could really only do so much. He swiftly told his instructions to the guards and—good, trained soldiers that they were—he went running down the hallway just as another pair rounded it with Varian between them. They nearly knocked each other down, but managed with battle-born instincts to avoid a tumble.

"Sire," one of the guards called after him. "It came from the Guardian's wing. We have people going there already."

"Are you sure?" he bit out.

"Yes, sir." 

Why, oh why, did that make him feel _better?_

"What has that idiot mage done?" He muttered to himself as he ran. He skidded around another corner and was overwhelmed by the amount of smoke and rubble he saw in the formerly pristine castle wing. 

There were a couple soldiers shifting about, as if befuddled. "What happened?" He called to them. "Is the Guardian all right?"

"He's glowing," one of the soldiers mumbled, pointing. 

Frowning, Lothar picked his way forward "Khadgar?" He asked, cautiously. "What have you done? Are you all right?"

If he was, he might not be once he got through with him, he thought darkly. 

He waved the soldiers back further. 

There was no hint of green, though. Only the bright, pure blue of Khadgar's own magic.

All he asked for was a week's respite. He wasn't young anymore, and even for someone who lived off of adrenaline this was becoming a bit much.

#

Khadgar squeezed his eyes shut until he heard Lothar's voice; he looked up at the regent, the blue in his eyes fading and then brightening again as he fought to calm himself down. 

"I'm sorry, I…" he clenched his fists and took in a shaky breath; light, this hadn't happened in _years_ , why now?

How was he going to explain this in a way that didn't terrify people into thinking he was completely unstable? Other mages had this problem—of course, other mages weren't the damn _Guardian_ and harnessing incredible amounts of new power at a rapid rate—

"N-Nightmare," he choked out, runes sparking to life around his hands before fading just as quickly as they'd appeared, unable to fully form without him saying a spell aloud. "I just...I n-need to..."

He needed to _calm down._ But the panic of the nightmare was bleeding into panic that he'd just destroyed a damn wall on _accident_ , something most mages didn't have to worry about. 

But what if his guard had been on the other side of that wall? He could have _killed_ someone. 

#

Lothar hastily sent the guards away with the explanation of a magical mishap and instructions to calm everyone down, with further orders to tell the royal family that he was handling a minor problem with 'the bookworm'. 

Quickly maneuvering into the room he knelt by Khadgar and took his shoulders in his hands. "You're in Stormwind Castle. I'm here with you. You're safe."

He watched the crackling of magic play around the mage's body, and wondered if he should be worried about touching him. But Khadgar hadn't shoved him away yet, and panic was flickering over his features as if he were waging an internal war. 

"It was just a nightmare, as you said." Lothar brought up a hand to cup his cheek, the sparse beard over the soft skin brushing his palm. "Khadgar, look at me.”

#

Khadgar tensed at first when he felt Lothar's hands on his shoulders, but he relaxed after a moment—he wouldn't hurt Lothar. Couldn't. 

"I'm sorry," he said again, voice rough as he finally forced himself to look up and meet Lothar's eyes. As he did, the glow in his eyes faded, and this time it didn't return.

He reached up and took hold of Lothar's wrist with one shaking hand, clinging like it was an anchor, and he finally started to just _breathe_ again. After a few moments, the glow around his hands began to fade out as well.

"It's...it's never been that bad before," he said breathlessly, still trembling—but at least the arcane energy was back under control, even if Khadgar felt far too hot and shaky. He hated feeling out of control in any way—it reminded him of being back in that font, fighting off the relentless surge of fel magic.

#

Knowing that it was on so many levels a terrible idea, but unable to deny Khadgar comfort after the mage had saved his life just hours before, he drew Khadgar into his chest and just prayed that the other man would allow it. He put his chin on top of Khadgar's head, nestled into slightly sweaty hair. It was still soft. 

He had held his soldiers much like this, he reasoned, when they needed it.

"So what happened?" Lothar prompted.

It would be a problem, of course, if it became a common occurrence—the castle couldn't afford to make large-scale repairs in a time of war. He wondered if there were wards that Khadgar could put up to protect himself and the room as he slept.

He wouldn't dream of mentioning his worries to Khadgar, at least not yet, when he was sure any hint of concern would be taken as an excuse to flee back to Karazhan.

#

Khadgar's breath caught in his throat as Lothar pulled him in close, and for a moment, he wasn't sure what to do—it wasn't like he was used to this. If he'd lost control like this during his training, he would've been in for a vicious lecture, and probably hours of control exercises, despite the late hour.

But it didn't take long for him to relax into it, taking advantage of the comfort while he had it. His fingers clutched at the fabric of Lothar's shirt as his heart slowed down from hammering against his rib cage like a trapped bird.

He froze, though, when Lothar asked what happened. How could he explain without it being completely awkward? 'I panicked in my dream because I couldn't save you?' Yeah, that would go over well.

"I was...silenced. I couldn't cast," he settled for a half truth, his voice still soft and unsteady. "I just panicked, I...I've always been able to wake up before I complete the spell. I didn't mean to..."

He winced as he realized his shoulder was throbbing in pain, the adrenaline and rush of arcane energy having completely covered that up until now; yeah, casting in a panic and falling out of bed didn't help that. And he was still exhausted. Wonderful. 

#

"Is that why you don't sleep?" Lothar murmured, looking around the room at the damage. Safer than concentrating on Khadgar's solid frame in his arms. He had never been able to figure out how an academic had built up bulk like Khadgar had. 

He would have called it baby fat, but now that he was holding Khadgar he could feel the muscle underneath his clothes. 

The jokes the soldiers made about mages seemed off base, now that he had seen what Khadgar could do. He might tease, but the last Guardian had not been weak, and neither was this one. His naiveté had truly only been due to lack of experience, not lack of capability as he'd first thought.

It was nice, he mused, that he didn't feel like he would break in his arms. Perhaps, if he ever did seek another to share his life, he would look among the male sex. He didn't want to be a father again after all—it would feel too much like he was trying to replace Callan.

He rubbed Khadgar's back once before letting go, afraid of making things awkward.

#

Khadgar paused, then reluctantly nodded. "As of late," he admitted, because it was true. Ever since the Orcs and the fel, and especially since inheriting his new title, the nightmares had been coming more frequently. It seemed easier to deal with some sleep deprivation than to wake up every night in a cold sweat, eyes glowing, the start of a spell on his tongue.

He wondered if Medivh suffered from this as well. If Moroes were still alive, he could have asked, could have a quick answer to any remedy; but that was yet another pile of research that he didn't have time for when the Orcs were on Stormwind's doorstep. 

Of course, now he'd have to make time for it. He couldn't risk a second occurrence.

"I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. I'm sure there's a way—some kind of spell—" he said in a rush of words when Lothar released him. "It just...became more difficult since I...became Guardian. It's not just a title, you also inherit a greater capacity for the arcane, a greater intensity to your magic. You inherit a lot of capability from the previous Guardian. That's why I stayed at Karazhan alone, to...to adjust."

It wasn't something he could have divulged to Lothar were he still just a commander; it was a secret of the legacy of Guardians. But with Lothar being the regent of Stormwind, even the Kirin Tor would begrudge him the right to know. 

Normally a new Guardian would have the previous Guardian's steward to help adjust to the changes, but that obviously wasn't an option for him. 

#

Lothar tilted his head, taking in the new information. He put his hand on Khadgar's upper arm comfortingly, mindful of the shoulder he knew was still tender. "You should have told me," he said. It was a lot to take in. It explained the change, now that he thought about it, in Khadgar, his new willingness to make decisions without coming to him for help, his massive abilities in the arcane. It seemed overwhelming to him, but he wasn't one to ask for details about things he would never understand. 

His back was beginning to ache. He'd spent too much time the last few days crouching. He stood and proffered a hand to Khadgar, hand at the small of his back for support. "We'll have to talk about what we can do to make things safer for you here," his lips quirked. "And safer for this poor castle."

#

"Your castle shouldn't _need_ protection from me," Khadgar muttered miserably—maybe this was why Guardians always ended up isolating themselves.

Maybe it was just too dangerous to be around this many people. 

Khadgar took Lothar's hand and stood slowly, then wavered on his feet from both fatigue and shakiness—he instinctively grabbed onto Lothar to stay on his feet, which put them a little closer than was strictly comfortable. Which was, of course, the moment Queen Taria chose to appear in the doorway, because of course she would hear 'magic mishap' and immediately start to worry.

Khadgar stepped back from Lothar and stumbled, choosing instead to lower himself down to sit on the edge of the bed before he managed to fall down. "Lady Taria," he said, blushing all over again as her eyes inevitably widened at the hole blown straight through the thick stone wall. "I'm sorry, I...it was an accident."

That sounded like a really bad excuse for 'I blew a hole in the wall of your castle and put your entire military on high alert because I had a bad dream', but it was all he could manage to come up with. He was still a bit...out of it. 

#

Taria picked her way over the rubble to stand by her brother. "Oh," she hmm'd. "I cannot believe a Guardian would possibly cause such a disaster like this. Can you, Lothar?" There was the faintest curve to her lips as she tilted her head at Lothar regally.

Lothar thanked the Light that his sister had chosen that moment to interrupt. Things between him and Khadgar had been veering toward the too-honest, and he hadn't seen a way to stop it without making it seem like he was running. "Never," he deadpanned, lucidly remembering how Medivh had blown up his study on more than one occasion. He and sister shared a brief, private smile.

She looked around at the room, frowning. "It will take time and gold to repair. This is a lot of damage. Are you all right? What happened here?"

"Just an experiment gone wrong," Lothar covered for Khadgar easily. He gave her a pointed look. He'd tell her later if she pressed, but he didn't want to embarrass Khadgar further, especially not in front of the Queen. She would no doubt be sympathetic, but he could tell that Khadgar was already spiraling into the familiar depths of self-criticism.  

#

Khadgar was incredibly thankful for Lothar at that moment; he didn't want to explain to the Queen exactly what had happened. He hadn't wanted to tell Lothar ether, but obviously lying to him was out of the question. He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "You should give my poor guard hazard pay," he pointed out with a soft laugh that only had a hint of humor to it.

After all, he did put that guard through an awful lot.

One thing was obvious; he would be too paranoid to sleep again tonight. He stood up, slower this time, and was relieved to find that he was steadier on his feet now. "I'm going to the library. I need to figure out how to prevent a reoccurrence of this," he said, an excuse that worked for both the truth and the half—truth Lothar told the queen. He gave them both an apologetic look before stepping out into the hall.

  
#

Lothar slapped a hand to his face, pulling down the skin of his cheeks.

"Lothar..." Taria began. 

"He had a nightmare," Lothar explained, too quietly for anyone to hear even had they been standing in the very room. "Not uncommon after a battle."

"You've struck out in your sleep before," she agreed.

He nodded. "I don't know whether to try and convince him to rest. He doesn't listen."

She touched his arm gently. "Maybe let him be. He's stubborn, like you. He has to figure out to control his powers on his own. You're the regent, Anduin. You won't always be there for him."

The use of his first name brought him up short. She only used it rarely now that she was Queen, and only when she was especially concerned.

"You should get some rest yourself," she suggested. "I know right now you feel awake, but I know you. The battle—heat will wear off soon. You were just held captive. Try not to worry about the Guardian and take care of yourself right now. You have a duty to do so."

Lothar sighed, then finally acquiesced. 

Taria wrinkled her nose. "Bath first, perhaps?" she said daintily.

He jostled her lightly with his shoulder as she laughed at him.

#

Khadgar tried to work in the library for a while, but found himself distracted. It wasn't like him, to not be able to focus; he usually had trouble breaking his focus and relaxing, so the difference was jarring. After a couple of hours of work, he gave up and decided that he wasn't getting anywhere; he went back to the castle courtyard, this time just to sit down on one of the benches and think.

The Orcs were taking strategic locations around the borders of Elwynn Forest, preparing for a siege on Stormwind. They weren't even hiding the fact, despite that their numbers still had to be suffering from the blow of the final battle against Llane's forces. And if Garona was truly leading them, she had spent time in Stormwind. She knew the lay of the land. She had to know a direct assault would result in massive casualties to their forces, which they couldn't afford right now.

It all seemed too obvious. Too perfect. Orcs were bold, but their leaders weren't stupid.

Then, a picture came back to him—one he'd seen only for a moment when the demon had been in his mind. He thought back to the attacks, the locations, and that picture—and it clicked.

He got to his feet so fast that he nearly fell. He raced back to the library, startling the few servants and guards he passed, and he began desperately searching the shelves, looking for any tome that could hold what he was looking for. It took nearly five hours of frantic searching, but he found it—and as soon as he saw the picture, he grabbed the book, a map of the Eastern Kingdoms, and sprinted to Lothar's room.

He didn't bother knocking. The guards were so startled that they didn't even get a chance to try and stop Khadgar, so the Guardian just went right in, pushing aside the things on Lothar's desk and unrolling the map.

"Lothar! Wake up!" he demanded, already weighing down the edges of the map so it wouldn't roll back up. "Now!"

The guards stuttered helplessly in the doorway, one looking at the other. "Can...can he do that?" he asked, and the other just shrugged. It seemed neither wanted to take a turn being a farm animal.

  
#

Lothar had been on alert the second he heard his door open, having years of light sleeping under his belt during countless patrols. It was either Taria or Khadgar (on the extremely rare occasions it was Varian, but the footsteps were too purposeful. The young king liked to ambush him in his bed, and Lothar usually let him think he was being stealthy). 

The moment he heard the mage's voice he groaned and pulled the covers over his head. "Not yet," he pleaded. "Where are the guards? They will stop minding if you get them too used to being sheep."

#

"Lothar!" Khadgar said, his voice holding a note of desperation. "Get over here! I know where the Orcs are going to strike next. I've figured out what they're planning, and it's not the assault you're expecting!"

It was a bold claim, to say the least, but to say that Khadgar was one thousand percent sure would have been an understatement. He'd had that demon inside his own head, he'd felt the way their Legion thought—he knew he was right.

He grabbed a feather quill and circled the places the Orcs had already attacked. "This is big, Lothar. Worse than we could have imagined. We may not have much time."

  
#  


That got Lothar shooting straight up out of bed, wide-awake. "Tell me," he demanded, his voice suited to the title Lion of Azeroth. He strode over to the desk half-dressed in his cotton pajama bottoms, and leaned over what Khadgar was trying to show him.

A sick feeling settled into his gut. He already thought that the Orcs positioning for an attack on Stormwind was bad enough. The only things he could think of that would be worse would be another opening of the gate or Gul'dan himself showing up on their doorstep.

He stared at the map, then gestured with his hands to tell Khadgar to hurry it up. "What is this?"

#  


"So, these are the places they've already sieged or are currently attacking. Lakeshire, and this area in the Burning Steppes. Here's Stormwind," Khadgar explained, marking them all and gesturing as he spoke. Then, he opened up the book to a diagram and set it beside the map.

"When the demon was...trying to overcome me with the fel, he showed me things. Tried to sway me by displaying knowledge of other worlds, demonic forces. One of the things I saw was this," he said, pointing to the diagram; it was a triangle with a circle on the middle of the left most line, with runes lining the whole thing. "It's an ancient rune set used to summon demons. Their warlocks use it to summon a demon from the nether to assist them in battle. We always thought it was myth, ancient legend."

He pointed to the map again. "Look at where they've attacked. Look at where Stormwind sits," he said, drawing the triangle over the map. The two attack points were at two points of the triangle, and Stormwind sat right in the  off-center circle in the rune. He finished drawing the triangle, and drew a hasty circle around where the third point would land—right over Sentinel Hill in Westfall.

"They're not preparing an assault. They're creating forts to house centers of runic power. They're creating a massive demonic summoning rune that will open in the heart of Stormwind," he said, looking up at Lothar with a mix of fear and desperation—and a little bit of exhilaration and pride of discovery. "They're going to take Sentinel Hill, and once they do, Gul'dan will just have to power up those runes. They won't have to step foot in Stormwind to take it."

#  


Lothar gripped Khadgar's elbow, his blood running cold. "Are you sure?" But of course the mage was sure, it was a stupid question after he had been damnably right about every other threat he'd brought to Lothar. The fel, Karazhan, _Medivh._  "We'll need to send reinforcements immediately to Sentinel Hill. Guard," he snapped his fingers at the doorway and turned to the guard who came to attention. "Tell Queen Taria that we need to beg reinforcements from the Dark Iron Dwarves, immediately. They have to help us push the Orcs out of the Burning Steppes. Then go to the barracks and tell them to prepare for war. We'll need to march at first light. I'll be down to see them shortly."

The guard saluted and made haste to follow his commands.

"We're short on troops. Morale is low. Your own abilities are not at full strength, and you're the most powerful asset we have, Khadgar. Our alliances with the Dwarves are tenuous at best. I don't know how we're going to push an attack on the Burning Steppes and maintain a defense in Darkshire at the same time." It took him a moment to really hear himself, and realize that he'd admitted weakness to Khadgar, possibly for the first time. 

#  


Khadgar's eyes searched the map as he frowned in thought. "They're not at full strength yet either. They're counting on the fact that we don't know what they plan to do," he said, pulling the book over to look closer at the diagram. "We don't need to hold all three points. If any one of the rune points fail, the spell as a whole will fail."

He looked up at Lothar with determination. "Get me to any one of the rune points they've already established, and I can destroy it. I may be able to seed the land there with latent arcane so it can't be used for the fel, even if they were to regain the advantage and take it back. It's a long shot, but...if they take all three points, even for a day, that may be enough time for Gul'dan to complete the spell."

He hesitated, tapping a finger on the spot where the Dark Portal once stood. "The only other certain way to cut off the threat would be to get me to the Dark Portal, so I can cut off the control rune Gul'dan is using to connect to all the points and seeding that same connection with latent arcane. It would be a more certain way to eliminate the threat for good, but it would be..."

He didn't need to say it. One Mage going right into the heart of the main Orc camp at the Dark Portal, head to head with their most powerful warlock? That was a textbook suicide mission.

#  


Lothar closed his eyes briefly, bolstered by Khadgar's steady assuredness. When he opened them again they were determined. "All right. Stormwind's troops will hold Sentinel Hill with the help of the people there. You and I will go to the Burning Steppes and disrupt their rune at that point. We'll go alone. This will be a stealth mission, not a fight. I'm going to be trusting you to be able to do this and also keep us hidden, Khadgar. Can you do it? We haven't had enough time to let you rest and recover from Karazhan, and after our last fight with the Orcs I fear you're not at your full strength."

He rubbed one of his bare arms, frustrated with how they'd been backed into a corner without even realizing it. "I wish we had more time to appeal to our allies. They're so removed from us that they don't understand this threat will reach into all of the Eastern Kingdom, and not just Stormwind."

#  


"By the time they understand the scope of the threat, it will be too late for an alliance to do much good," Khadgar muttered in agreement. He took a moment to evaluate, trying to decide how much strength he had.

It would be close, but they didn't have a choice.

"By the time we get there I should be recovered enough," he guessed, and it really was a guess. "My invisibility spell only affects me, and only for about twenty seconds, so we can't depend too much on that. Especially if they've heard from the other camp by then and know what to expect. But I could use my magic to distract them."

Worst case scenario, the Orcs got clever and learned how to stop him casting altogether—Durotan had figured it out quick. Khadgar shuddered at the memory of that massive hand clamped over his mouth, strong enough that one twitch would have broken his neck. 

#  


"If you're using your magic to distract them, spell-chucker, then who will be disabling the runes?" Lothar rolled his eyes. "No, if it comes to that, I'm going to be the distraction, and you're going to be getting in close enough to do what you have to."

He clapped a hand on Khadgar's back, nearest to his good shoulder. "Would you be ready to leave tonight? I don't want you porting, you'll need your strength. We'll go by gryphon, and then by foot. With any luck we'll arrive before morning. Do you know what you'll be looking for when we get there?"

#  


Khadgar would have stumbled at the clap to his shoulder, had there not been a table there, but he tried not to show it. "I'm ready anytime. There's no time to lose," he said softly. 

The Orcs were notorious for striking and taking over entire small towns in hours. At any time they could start their attack on Sentinel Hill; they needed to act now if they wanted to stay one step ahead. 

"They'll likely have the rune hidden in some kind of makeshift structure; they don't want us to know what they're planning, and they know we have scouts," he said. "So it will likely be in a structure in the middle of their camp. I'm...not sure how long it will take for me to destroy it, it's...not something I've done before. I know I can do it, but we could be talking anywhere from thirty seconds to a few minutes. And if he starts the spell while I'm still in he process of trying to counter, it could...severely complicate things."

#

Lothar nodded. "So it will be my job to make sure he doesn't do that," he said firmly. "Worry about your part of it. Leave the fighting to me."

He took a long look at the map, then nodded to Khadgar. "You've done well," he said softly. "As always."

He went to his closets, used to changing in front of other men at the barracks and not wanting to spare any time for issues of propriety. As he began pulling out his underclothes and padded under armor he added, "I'll need to go to the barracks to prepare the troupes and speak to the lieutenants. You should get what you need and gather supplies for our trip. We'll need food and water. Talk to Taria if you can for me, I won't have time."

#  


Khadgar didn't like the idea of Lothar distracting an entire army of Orcs to buy time for a spell, but they would cross that bridge when they got to it. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, though there was that momentary burst of pride when Lothar praised him for what he'd discovered.

But when the other man started stripping down, he began to wonder if the Light was testing him on purpose. 

He was fairly sure he turned a quite brilliant shade of red as he turned his gaze to the floor, but not before catching a glimpse of a mostly naked Lothar, which _really_ wasn't fair when he had a mission to think about. Really.

"Food. Water. Right. I, uh. I'll talk to Taria. Right away," he stuttered out, wanting to kick himself. _Light, could you be more obvious?_ He thought—and just when he thought that, he managed to back into a chair and nearly fall over.

Yeah, this couldn't get any more embarrassing, he was sure of it. He made his escape as quickly as possible, this time without taking down any furniture along the way.

#

Lothar looked up just in time to see Khadgar flee from the room, a red tinge to his cheeks. 

For the briefest, most deceitful of moments, he wondered if it were _possible_...

But no. Given to the Kirin Tor at six, isolated and on his own up until the moment he'd come into Lothar's life. It was just from living a sheltered life, nothing more. 

Lothar shook his head, angry with himself for even thinking it. If Khadgar were interested in him as a partner, how could he possibly encourage it in good conscience? As it was, the mage was already putting himself in enough danger, focusing on Lothar's safety rather than his own well-being time after time in his attempts to prove himself worthy of whatever high standard he'd set. Azeroth needed a Guardian more than they needed a Regent Lord. 

In addition, he still wasn't sure he could touch another without seeing his wife's face haunting him, woman or man. He doubted strongly that Khadgar had been with anyone in that way; he deserved someone younger and with less issues than Lothar had at the moment. Even when Garona had been wooing him, as interested as he was in her advances, it was hard to accept, and he had no fear of breaking her the way he did Khadgar. The younger man was too emotionally fragile to really be suitable for him.

Llane had always accused him of being reckless; Medivh had cautioned him again and again against his own nature while continuously egging him on. They both kept him in check, and his wife...well, she'd been both of them. Strong willed, kind, firm, and understanding. She always knew when to push him and when to hold him back, and when to fight him when he'd been especially obtuse. Khadgar seemed like he might let him get away with anything, in this fantasy of his where he was actually interested.

_But is that really who Khadgar is?_  He thought to himself cynically. _Or is that who you hope he is, so you can continue to ignore these feelings because they're inconvenient?_

He pulled on the last of his clothes and went to find his troops. 

#

Khadgar had gathered a small amount of food and water; if they ran out, it wouldn't be any trouble for him to conjure a bit more. He left Taria with the final advice from her of 'make sure my brother doesn't do anything stupid'.

Khadgar promised her he'd look out for Lothar, and tried to ignore the knowing look she gave him in return.

He waited nervously at the gryphon roost, though he wasn't as nervous about flying anymore; rather, he felt like he had a sort of new kinship with Lothar's gryphon after he basically stole it to go save him. The bird even seemed happy to see him. 

"Ready to go?" he asked Lothar, trying not to blush at the brief memory of earlier. 

_Pull it together_ , he thought, hoisting his bag higher on his shoulder and stepping up to the gryphon, giving it a brief scratch on the head. 

#

After the plan was set and contingencies made, and the situation explained as thoroughly as he could to people with no understanding of the arcane, Lothar left to find Khadgar. The whole thing seemed like a disaster building, with every play thought of and orchestrated by Gul'dan himself. He couldn't help feeling like he was sending the rest of Stormwind's defenses to their deaths, but what choice did he have? He would not see the city fall without giving everything they had. He owed Llane that much.

He finished tugging the last strap of his pauldron tight as he approached the gryphon roost until he spotted Khadgar waiting for him.

Stormwind's armies aside, his most desperate wish was that this wouldn't be a suicide mission for the mage.

"I see you've been confusing my gryphon as to who her master is," Lothar said with a sharp smile as he walked up to Khadgar. 

He knew, of course, that it wasn't true—his gryphon was bonded to him, and even an overly-friendly mage wasn't going to change that. It actually warmed him a little to see them getting on, as weird as that felt for him to acknowledge. He pulled a treat out of his satchel (a dirty trick) and she danced toward him, preening as he'd trained her to do until he tossed the bit of meat into her beak. He scratched the feathers behind her head and tied up the bags. 

With one hand on the saddle, he turned to Khadgar. He wanted to tell him to remain behind, irrationally; it was he himself who was the extraneous one on this trip. He only hoped he could keep the other man safe. 

"Ally-oop!" He said cheerfully to mask his worry, and jumped astride the saddle, gesturing for Khadgar to join him.

  
#

"I think we've come to an understanding ever since I stole her," Khadgar said with a chuckle, watching as the gryphon pranced like an excited puppy. He waited for her to settle down and for Lothar to get on, and then he took a deep breath and hopped up into the saddle. 

"You know, I'd never been on a gryphon before that first flight with you," he admitted, though he was obviously much more comfortable with it now. "The Kirin Tor doesn't really see the point in feeding gryphons when they can use portals."

Though he had to say, there was something more down to earth and comfortable about using a gryphon instead.

#

"She loves getting into trouble," Lothar said dryly. "So it's no wonder you'd get on." 

He gave her a gentle nudge with his heels and the gryphon launched them skyward. "Her name is Gnollbelly, though Dungar would tell you it's Featherbane." He leaned forward, away from the warm press of Khadgar against his back for a breath so he could pet her feathered neck. "And those gnolls were delicious, weren't they?" 

#

"Are you implying that I get into trouble? I do nothing of the sort," Khadgar said with a smirk and a mock incredulous tone. He knew as well as any that he had a bad habit of getting into all sorts of trouble—usually involving world—threatening calamities, no less.

He wasn't entirely used to riding tandem on the gryphon yet, so when she lurched skyward, he found himself grabbing onto Lothar and holding tight—which made him glad the regent couldn't see the blush on his face. Not just from the closeness, but from how nice it was to hear Lothar actually laugh; it wasn't a sound he heard often.

He couldn't help but think how nice it would be to hear it a whole lot more often.

"Why do I get the feeling there's a story behind that?" he asked, watching as the ground rapidly receded below them.

#

Lothar smiled, letting himself enjoy the feeling of warmth at his back for once. He stroked the gryphon's feathers slowly. "When a gryphon is broken, you don't want to send them straight into battle because they'll be too unpredictable. So small patrols, easy scouting work is the way to get them used to the sound of different creatures and weapons. I took her to Three Corners to investigate the gnoll uprising there, and I've never seen a happier gryphon with a fuller belly at the end of it. She didn't spook once." 

He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of wind on his face, as he always did. He hoped their return journey would be just as pleasant, but he couldn't shake the feeling they were going at last to the gallows. He had all the faith in the world in Khadgar, and had no doubt the mage would succeed in bringing down the runes. What he was more worried about was getting back out in the midst of an army of angry Orcs. 

"It was how I knew she was meant for me," he finished. "I needed someone who would run with me into battle, no matter what we face, no matter how reckless I am. She hasn't let me down since."

It occurred to him then that in many ways, he could be speaking of Khadgar himself. As skittish and anxious as he was in the quiet times, he had never backed down from doing what was needed, no matter the risks. 

Lothar was glad the night hid the warmth he felt in his cheeks. As much as he was always looking to tease the mage, and comparing him to his gryphon would certainly do the trick, he had a feeling it would backfire on him this time.

#

Somehow, Khadgar could imagine Lothar standing there with a proud look while his gryphon slaughtered half the gnoll population of Elwynn Forest.

It was easier than imagining what they were flying into. Hopefully, if the Orcs were expecting an attack, they would be expecting a whole army of soldiers; the fact that there were only two of them might give them an edge in this case.

Of course, it also would probably end in their very messy deaths, given the odds. But he just had to destroy that rune; even if neither of them made it out, if that rune got destroyed, they would be saving Stormwind.

"We had cats back at our living halls in Dalaran. Technically not pets, since we weren't allowed pets, but we fed them to keep them around," he said, just as eager to keep the conversation light whilst they flew to a deadly battle. "We used to practice polymorph spells on them and the birds; the spell lasts longer on animals. We got in trouble every time a tutor found a sheep trying to catch mice or a rabbit that kept trying to take off and fly."

The lectures were totally worth it, though.

#

That startled a laugh out of Lothar, loud and raucous. They were high in the air and far from enemies, at least for the moment. He tried picturing a menagerie of unlucky transmogrified pets and a younger Khadgar in the face of the serious and stoic Kirin Tor. 

"And to think they seemed angry with you for running away," Lothar teased, hoping that it was not a misstep to bring up Khadgar's less than honorable past. He had to know by now that he certainly was not one to blame him for his choices. Being raised in such a strict environment and not by choice sounded like pure hell to Lothar. 

#

Khadgar hesitated, looking back down to the ground far below. If only it were that simple, really; people joked about running away because of the strictness, but no one ever did. Some were culled and sent back home because they didn't measure up, but Khadgar...he was the first to actually run away, and it had nothing to do with how strict they were.

"I...didn't run away because they were strict. I think they would have been less angry with me, if that were the case," he said with a nervous laugh, remembering Alodi's words.

_You left because you can see things they cannot_. Oh, how right she was.

#

"Then why did you run?" Lothar asked. "It seems like you never got asked if you wanted to be there. It seems natural that given the opportunity, you wouldn't stay. Honor or not that's only a step above slavery."

The more he heard about the Kirin Tor, the more Lothar's distaste for them grew. It wasn't a politic opinion to have, though.

#

Khadgar paused again. Did he even want to try and explain? Even the Kirin Tor thought him crazy when he first tried to come to them, when he first started asking questions they couldn't answer.

Would Lothar think less of him? Think him mad?

"I was used to how things worked by then. It was just...life, for me. It was difficult, but I was learning so much. I...I didn't initially _want_ to leave."

Well...it was now or never.

"I...started seeing the arcane differently. I can see how it weaves together with other planes, how it connects the dead and the living, our world with others; that's how I found the conduits Medivh placed. I can feel memories in places just based on the latent arcane energy. I know, it...it sounds crazy," he said, hands unconsciously gripping Lothar a little bit tighter. "I went to them for advice, because I assumed it was normal, and it was interfering with my studies. They told me I was losing my mind if I thought all that was real. They wanted me to double my workload to 'get back in touch with the truth of the arcane'."

He laughed, a little bitterly. "It's not something I can just turn off, but they didn't accept that. They still think I've gone a bit crazy. Sometimes I think I have, too," he said, a bit softer. "Most of the council is really not happy about my new 'title'."

#

Lothar took it all in. Khadgar's words sent a prickle down his back—not of fear, but perhaps of awe.

"Then they're fools," he breathed harshly, his breath visible in the cool air at the high altitude. "Your premonitions have saved lives. It's saved my life. It’s saved Azeroth. If you can see things they cannot, then you should trust yourself because they are blind."

#

Khadgar was stunned into silence by the short speech; he'd expected skepticism, or even teasing, anything but the heartfelt honesty that he got in return. It obviously took him by surprise, since it took a few moments for him to even be able to reply.

"I've...no one has ever put it quite like that before. I've been called strange and crazy, but..." he trailed off, trying to remember if anyone had responded with sympathy and such faith—but he knew no one had, even of the few souls he trusted enough to tell.

He blinked back the stinging in his eyes, and told himself it was just from the wind.

"Thank you, Lothar," he finally managed, sounding more vulnerable than usual. "For...having faith in me."

It had taken a while; Light knew that Lothar didn't have that faith in him during the first while that they'd known each other. But somewhere along the line, things had...changed. 

#

As alone as they were, with Khadgar's arms wrapped tightly around him, Lothar wished that they could actually have a moment like this and have it mean something. Khadgar's earnest tone twisted at his heart. 

Or, on the other hand, that thought also made him want to run screaming in the other direction. 

As it was, he only knew he had to break the tender, palpable intensity between them, or say something he'd regret.

He laughed, but kept it kind. He lightened his voice. "Well, you are strange and crazy, bookworm."

He wondered how Khadgar could still sound so wondering at his praise, when he was riding in the dead of night toward an Orc outpost on Khadgar's own word. 

  
#

Khadgar rolled his eyes; there was the Lothar he was used to. "As if you aren't just as crazy. The guards sure have a lot of stories about you, you know," he teased, which was mostly true; stories of Lothar pulling off insane tactics in the heat of battle and such. He'd overheard a lot from his guard's conversations. 

"Plus, weren't you the one who taunted a castle full of arcane spirits?" he teased.

Maybe they were both a little crazy. It was kind of ironic that Taria asked him to keep Lothar out of trouble, when he was just as bad himself.

  
#

Lothar chuckled again and didn't deny it. "Oh, and perhaps you'll tell me which guards? No?" He shook his head in amusement. "So what's the worst they have to say about me then, one friend to another?"

He had no doubt he could guess all of it; he just wanted to find out how much Khadgar had heard. He wasn't bothered by guards (or anyone else) talking about it—he was sure it was deserved. 

Then: "I'm glad your memory has improved of Karazhan," he added. He had wondered if the amnesia from that fight would be permanent. 

#

"If you think I'm going to snitch on your poor guards, then think again. Don't you think I put them through enough already?" Khadgar asked with a laugh. After all, he had almost arcane blasted one through a wall. And he'd polymorphed others. And completely ignored Lothar's personal guards.

His heart was beating a bit faster as he could see the mountain range in the distance, but he tried to ignore it. "I think I remember most of what happened now. It's all still...a little foggy," he admitted. 

He remembered channeling the spell, keeping Lothar shielded, and remembered him bringing those spirits in to use as fuel; he was pretty sure he passed out soon after that.

#

"Good," Lothar murmured, setting his sights on the mountains that were fast approaching. He urged the gryphon downwards until they were just barely skimming the tree line. Soon smoke and the distant flickering of campfires became visible. "Be on the lookout for hunter's traps and concealed enemies once we're in the forest; night cover can be a double-edged sword."

The trees would only cover them for so long, though—the bulk of their journey by foot would be spent on dusty, wide—open ground with only boulders for cover. 

"And be wary of where you set your feet," he cautioned. "It's a wasteland, full of scorpids and grells. Keep your eyes to the sky and be wary of drakes. The black dragonflight dwell here. We don't want to be caught in a fight that will only draw the Orcs' attention our way."

#

Khadgar snorted. "So, other than the traps, the orcs, the scorpids, the grells, and the dragons, it's just a stroll in the park, right?" he said, peering over to look down at the ground as it gradually rose up to meet them. 

He'd never been through this area- after all, why trek through dragon infested lands when you can port around them- and he could see clearly why. The land was desolate, dry, and barren. Not the best idea for a solo travelled to make his or her way through here. 

"On the bright side, at least they're not of the blue dragon flight," he pointed out. Most of the blue dragons abhorred human magic users; they could sense magic, and they would not take kindly to a human mage in their lands.

#

"Right," Lothar grinned. "That's the spirit.  It's good to look on the bright side."

He located a safe area for them to land and the gryphon swooped down, silently and carefully with a few spoken words from Lothar.

#

Khadgar hopped down off the gryphon, his bag slung across his back and his staff held tightly in his hand as he looked around for anything that looked like a threat. There was nothing around, though, but boulders and red dirt.

He could see the smoke from the Orc fires, rising up past the far off boulders, and he waited for Lothar to join him, trying not to seem as nervous as he actually was. 

"Where will their sentries be? There aren't many places to hide lookouts around here," he said quietly, deferring to Lothar's no doubt superior military tactics. He would know where it was and wasn't safe to go near the camp, and where to approach from, no doubt.

#

Lothar clasped a hand to Khadgar's arm as they quickly worked through the details of the approach and other strategy.

"I'll create a distraction once we've found where they're hiding the rune; you said your stealth spell only lasts twenty seconds, so that won't be until we're up close. If it seems like it won't work, get out of there. We can't take on their forces with just the two of us." He eyed a pile of dry, dusty branches and got an idea. "But I know how to keep them occupied while you try."

He took a close look at Khadgar's determined face and smiled. "You can do this," he said. "I'll be with you every step of the way."

He hefted the branches, keeping one in his hand and tucking the rest under his arm for later. "Once we're closer, we'll spread out so I'm on the other side of the camp from you. They won't be looking for you."

#

Khadger nodded, committing all the instructions to memory. They could do this; they had the element of surprise, his magic, and Lothar's cunning. 

They could do this. He just had to keep telling himself that.

"Lothar," he said, grabbing hold of Lothar's sleeve before he could start walking again. His mouth went dry, and all of a sudden, he wanted to say so many things, but...couldn't. It was too much of a risk. Too much, even, for them walking quite possibly to their deaths.

Better to not risk losing anything else.

"Be careful, alright?" He finally said, though his voice nearly cracked. "I promised your sister you'd come home safe."

#

Lothar's breath caught in his throat.  There was a sudden intensity to Khadgar's eyes, but it was fleeting. He couldn't help but feel an unexplainable disappointment. He had hoped, irrationally, that Khadgar would say what was on his mind, as ill-timed as it was. He was certain though it would only be worries and fears about their mission. 

He held Khadgar's eyes, wishing he could at least tell the mage what he was feeling toward him in that moment; a surge of warmth and pride and unity, that he should be willing to take such a risk with him for the good of their people and their very survival. As it was, he only managed a brisk nod and he was off.

They wormed their way carefully into the enemy camp, using the tents and stockpiles of supplies for cover. Finally he caught sight of it; one tent more heavily guarded than the rest. He nudged Khadgar to point his attention toward it and took off in the opposite direction, lighting one of his branches in an Orc cook fire on the way. 

Then he set the first tent on fire.

#

Khadgar murmured his invisibility spell, and then took off at a sprint to the tent Lothar had indicated. Sure enough, when he slipped in after the Orcs inside came running out to see the trouble, the first thing he saw was the bright green rune, etched into the ground and glowing.

There was no time to waste. He would just have to hope this worked.

He took a deep breath and then stepped into the circle, and all at once his senses were assaulted with sights, sounds, and smells that weren't here—they were at the other camps. The runes were all connected, and he could feel that connection.

**_There you are, little spellcaster,_** a voice said, carved into his head like a knife across tree bark. It seemed he wasn't the only one tapped into the connection—the speaker could see him, too. He gritted his teeth and started the spell, a bright blue glow flaring to life in his eyes and on his hands.  

" _A'nar nei falu'lae, shiv tala a'kar._ "

**_I had heard the humans had a new mage doing their bidding, like a well-trained hound. You are the one who closed the portal, are you not?_ **

Khadgar tried to ignore the voice, tried to ignore its taunts. " _Fari'sho la hala im'alur'talah, shiv'lo nu_."

**_You could be so much more with the fel. With me...Gul'dan. I could teach you so much, give you powers beyond that frail form._ **

Khadgar gritted his teeth. He could feel Gul'dan pushing back against his efforts, and he was already so tired.

But he had to succeed. He couldn't let them open that portal. He focused, driving all his energy into the rune, into the connections to the other runes, grabbing to them and holding tight. 

" _Shil'anta re an, falor'ma'ala tulei_!"

#

Outside, an alarm went up around camp. Orcs came running from all sides like so many ants from an anthill, coming to put out the now multiple tent fires around their camp.

One Orc though stood in the middle of it all, his keen eyes taking in the chaos around him. He had a giant mace strapped to his back, granite on an oak handle with gold-studded straps; it was the weapon of a king, not some idle warrior. 

That one suddenly shouted something in his language, and Lothar just knew he was about to point their energies toward the tent Khadgar had gone into. 

Cracking his neck and his knuckles, he bounced on the balls of his feet, then crept nimbly up behind him. He was about to launch himself at the enormous creature's neck when suddenly, the hammer was out and swinging in a strong fist. 

It clipped him across the shoulder and Lothar went sprawling. The Orc chuckled something out in its own tongue, even as its people surrounded them. He waved a meaty hand and they stayed where they were. 

Shaking it off, knowing he had to buy Khadgar some time no matter what, he leapt back up. The Orc was obviously surprised, and pleased. 

Lothar gave a ferocious yell, and sword swinging came back at the Orc. 

This time, he dove sideways as the weapon came at him and swiftly pivoted, kicking the Orc's shoulder. The momentum from the Orc's own swing coupled with that was enough; taken unawares the Orc went sprawling. 

He gave a full belly laugh as he got to his feet, but when he turned to look at Lothar his eyes were full of malicious anger. "I am Orgrim Doomhammer, little one," he said in a stilted human tongue. "This mistake means your death."

"From one king to another," Lothar drawled. "Don't count your chickens before they hatch."

He came at him again, and jumped up onto the weapon itself, launching himself at the Orc's face. He got a couple good hacks in before he was thrown off and way, sliding across the dirt. The Orc hit his hammer into the ground one, two, three times, and finally into Lothar's sword arm before he could recover himself with a sickening crunch.

Not that he was really paying attention to the sound of it, because his senses were going a static white with pain.

_Come on, Lothar,_  he gritted his teeth. _Get up._

"King?" Doomhammer laughed uproariously. "No wonder your people will fall."

_No._

Grabbing his sword from his now-useless arm with a herculean effort, he struggled to his feet, panting. He swung his weapon with his left hand while the right dangled at his side. 

"This is fun!" Doomhammer crowed. 

Lothar ran forward and went between the giant Orc's legs, a tried-and-true tactic for dealing with brutes three times your size. He got several deep cuts in before he was caught by a crushing grip, dragged out, lifted, and slammed into the earth with enough force to make his ears ring.

He let out a piercing scream. He'd fallen arm-first, though at this point, he felt like several ribs and his femur might be broken as well. He only hoped nothing had or would pierce a lung.

It would be inconvenient.

"Don't tell me you've had enough," Doomhammer mocked. "So soon."

But there was enough pain that voice to make Lothar smile.

  
#

Khadgar could hear some kind of commotion outside, and he feared the worst. It drove him on, made him push even harder to get the spell to complete, even as the warlock fought against him every moment. He nearly sobbed at the strain, dropping to to one knee and pressing his hands to the fel circle, the blue glow around him intensifying.

**_Even as you fight me, they kill your friend, human,_**  the voice said, and if the glow had been bright before, now it was _blinding_.

"No," he hissed, and then he focused and directed all of his energy downward, through the runes and the connections. He felt the fel magic shatter, felt a roar of fury from the warlock, then the connection fizzled out.

He didn't hesitate. Couldn't. He stumbled to his feet and ran outside, blasting away the two Orcs blocking his path to Lothar. The Orc standing over the regent lifted his hammer, and Khadgar felt fury fill him with new energy, the energy of adrenaline when all else has failed. He sprinted forward, and as the hammer started its downward arc, he got to Lothar.

" _Andu talaras_!" he shouted, eyes and hand glowing as he threw his right hand over his head. The hammer came down on the shield he'd generated over his head, and he knelt over Lothar, clenching his jaw at the violent impact.

The shield wouldn't hold for long.

The Orc laughed and said something in Orcish, prompting laughter from the other Orcs too—and then he lifted the hammer and struck again. Khadgar gasped and his whole body jerked as the shield cracked, but didn't yet break.

"Lothar," he choked out, eyeing his friend's injuries. "Can you walk?"

He wasn't sure what he was going to do. Two or three more hits and that shield would break, and he'd already tapped into every reserve he had.

#

Lothar fought to keep his eyes open, focusing on— _impossibly—_ the sound of Khadgar's voice. If he were there, he could only hope the mage had succeeded with the rune. "Sure. Of course. Why not? What a question to ask." He pushed up, and fell over again, cursing. 

Through the sweat and blood burning in his eyes, he looked up at Khadgar. He was obviously struggling to maintain the opportune shield he had around them. 

Seemed they were out of time. 

Well, he hoped they had a little of it, actually, or they wouldn't be going anywhere. Lothar stripped a long piece of fabric from his pants and used it to wrap his sword to his leg as a makeshift splint. It wasn't like he be able to use it any more at the moment anyway. Bracing himself, he hobbled upward, hissing in pain and leaning on the pommel. He hated to think what it was doing to his precious blade, but swords could be repaired and death was somewhat unfixable. 

"Piece of cake," he huffed out, blinking back tears of pain. He took a halting step to test his weight and almost didn't make it.

Every nerve was screaming out in agony. He was bent nearly double with it, shaking uncontrollably with the effort.

This wasn't going to work. 

He turned to Khadgar. "Get out of here," he said. "Just go. Azeroth needs you. I hope whatever you did worked. It would be worth it."

#

Khadger actually cried out as the hammer slammed into the shield again, and it cracked and flickered before reforming. Barely. It wouldn't take another hit.

Despite that, Khadgar looked up at Lothar with nothing but determination. "You idiot," he snapped, and then he smiled weakly and his eyes flared bright blue once again. "I'm not leaving here without you."

He knew that this was their 'final stand', so to speak. But watching Lothar struggle to even walk, bloodied and beaten...nothing had made him quite so angry in a long time. And if there was one thing you didn't want fighting against you on a battlefield, it was a Guardian with nothing to lose.

" _Anar'alah, anara'nel belore_ ," he chanted, and runes sprang to life around his feet, the glow encasing his whole body. He closed his eyes for a few moments, and the air around them seemed to hum and shift as he pulled from every source within reach to gather energy. When he opened his eyes, there was no sight of the normal brown color; just crystal, shining blue. The Orcs' laughter and bravado faded, and they started to shift to fighting stances and lift their weapons.  _"Bash'a no falor talah_!"

The hammer came down again at the same time Khadgar's staff struck the ground, but this time, both hammer and Orc were blown back just before the hammer made contact with the glowing Guardian. The ground itself seemed to crack and tear outward in all directions, arcane light flooding out of the crevices, tearing burns into the skin of every Orc it touched. The air was no longer filled with their raucous laughter, but instead with roars of fury and agony and the smell of burning flesh. It was instantaneous panic among the Orcs, and Khadgar used the opportunity to grab onto Lothar's arm and cast one last spell—a port.

It didn't get them far; maybe a mile or so north of the Orc camp, as that was all Khadgar had the strength for. As soon as they were through the port he crumpled to the ground, coughing and spasming with the effort, the glow around him flickering out.

#

The last thing Anduin Lothar saw before losing consciousness was the world turning a brilliant, shining blue.

He smiled.

It was a good death.

\---

To his vast surprise, death was filled with Dwarves. with dark skin and eyes of fire. For a delirious moment this made sense, because if he hadn't gone to join the light, the second option should be filled with fire and formidable-looking Dwarves. 

He groaned and doubled over, unable to worry any more about it for time being, because with awareness came an excruciating, all-encompassing pain. His right side was on fire, his lungs were rasping, the taste of blood was in the back of his throat, and he would really love to jettison his leg and never feel that sensation ever again. 

He couldn't even be embarrassed about the wetness clouding his vision. He was proud enough as it was that he wasn't howling with everything he was feeling. 

Finally, his befuddled mind placed the strange-looking Dwarves as denizens of Azeroth; the Dark Iron Dwarves, who he had meant to befriend before their attack on the Orcs. 

It seemed, though, that that particular effort might have been futile anyway; as he lifted his head to assess the situation he saw he was looking at them from the inside of an extremely solid, well—crafted cage.

With a hacking, wet cough, he pressed his head back into the ground, and hoped maybe everything would just go away if he waited.

Then he remembered: He hadn't been alone.

"Khadgar—" he hacked.

He raised his head again and looked desperately about. At the corner of his vision, he saw the faintest hem of a blue cloak. 

He let his head drop back down. Even that much movement exhausted him.

#

Khadgar had been drifting in and out of consciousness since the port. He was a little startled to wake up in a cage—but when he found Dwarves on the other side of the bars, he actually felt relief. Dwarves could be reasoned with. He struggled to his feet, making sure Lothar was still alive before he went to the bars.

"Modr," he said, his voice weak and his Dwarven probably heavily accented. It had been a while since he'd spoken it. "Go mok Khadgar. Ke ruk Azregahn, zu havas weard khaz."

One of the Dwarves outside the cage raised an eyebrow. "Azregahn?  Ruk modor um hor frean. Dum mitta lo khaz?"

 "Dun—fel kha angor!" Khadgar said pleadingly. "Havar. Eft ta kaelsag, _havar_."

The Dwarves looked at one another for a few long moments, and then one grabbed a box from a nearby table. "Kost gor thros um goten grum a rune. Mos thon scyld, dum eft guma we a syddan. Red mos hine loch bergum we ruk thon. Misfaran."

He opened the box, and Khadgar visibly winced; inside lay a pair of iron binding cuffs. They were used as punishment—sometimes torture—among mages, restricting them from using their magic; wearing them long enough was considered torture due to side effects such as mana poisoning and the intense pain that could result. The binding cuffs were only used on the worst of prisoners these days; they were considered barbaric. Any mage would wince when faced with a set of them.

But Khadgar was low on energy as it was anyway, and if Lothar didn't get help, he might die.

"Eft lo am," he agreed, holding his hands out through the bars. The Dwarves looked at each other in surprise—not many would expect a mage to willingly allow their magic to be suppressed—but then one stepped forward, fastening on each heavy cuff one at a time.

The result was instantaneous. Khadgar took in a ragged gasp as he felt the unnatural pressure, and it took a moment for him to adjust. He sat down on the floor of the cell next to Lothar, and moments later, the door opened and a younger, unarmored Dwarf woman came in—the healer—and began tending to Lothar's wounds as best she could. She probably wouldn't be able to do much more than stop the bleeding, put on a splint and bandages, and ease some of the pain, but that would be enough.

 

**Translations:**

_"Hey." 'My name is Khadgar, I'm the Guardian. My friend needs help."_

_"Guardian? Your friend is our enemy. Why should we help?"_

_"Because it's right!" "'Please. I'll do anything, please."_

_"We're not going in there with a mage. You wear these, and I'll send in a healer. But you both must remain in the cage. Prisoners."_

_"I'll do it."_

_#_

When Lothar felt hands on him next, he forgot what he had seen when he first woke, only imagining huge Orc paws and powerful hammers. He threw several punches, but they were more like small taps. Swelling had begun setting in, and that wasn't a good sign.

There was a flow of foreign words though and a surprisingly gentle grip restraining him, and he placed the words finally as extremely indignant Dwarvish. He got that part from the tone, though, not from any ability to translate.

The Dark Irons, he remembered in a flash.

Dwarves have no love for mages, came his second thought.

"Khadgar!" The shout came out like a raspy whisper.

#

Khadgar was at Lothar's side in a moment. Not knowing what else to do, he knelt by the other man and cupped his face in both hands, holding him still.

"Hey, hey, I'm right here. She's helping you, okay? Hold still," he said, trying to ignore the unfamiliar, heavy weight of iron cuffs on his wrists. He gave the Dwarf healer an apologetic look, but she just sneered at him before setting back to work.

He hated seeing Lothar like this, hated that it had happened because of a mission he himself suggested, and hated that he was helpless to do anything but watch; but at least he'd been able to get them to help.

#

Lothar felt firm fingers cup his cheek, but the metal digging into his skin made him look up. Seeing Khadgar's worried face settled him down, but he groaned. "What did they do to you?"

Light, he wished Khadgar hadn't seen him beaten down like that. "And how did we get here?"

The Dwarf woman pushed Khadgar away from him as she turned him over, holy light glowing around her hands. "Don't they have anyone trained in the discipline arts?" He muttered. The pain wasn't subsiding, and his arm still felt useless, but at least he could breathe easier and his ribs felt mended. He could work with that if he had to fight again. He wasn't sure if the healer was just not that skilled, or if she was leaving him partially injured on purpose, to keep him too weak to fight back. 

"I want to speak with your leader," he said clearly.

She laughed at him, and threw what he was positive were creative insults his way.  

"I am the leader of my people," he tried to bargain.

He was able to pick out a few words from the irritated flow from her lips, among them the Dwarven word for "Wildhammer."

"Infighting," he bemoaned. "Just what we need." 

  
#

"Nothing you need to worry about," Khadgar insisted. It would take more than a day for any adverse side effects to kick in, and he was sure they would have cleared all of this up before it came to that. "And I...don't quite remember. I ported us away from the camp, but I couldn't get us far. I sort of...passed out."

He was surprised he'd been able to port them at all, after everything that happened.

He didn't like being pushed away, but he sat back anyway, keeping a careful eye on her as she worked. He felt helpless, both out of his depth politically and completely disarmed.

"Hor bergum loch ga khaz-dum modr a gar um a hrim," the Dwarf woman said in response to Lothar, and Khadgar sent her a glare that went ignored. "Robush-mogan kha mok hine weard ruk gar midd-havas."

"Rand dum kost gimil gor loch mos Orcs geardum thorneb angor modr thon. Mos a skolde golganar," he insisted, only earning a glare sent his own way before she turned her attention back to her healing.

 

**Translations:**

_"Our leader won't be speaking with a filthy dog in a cage." "Especially not one that fights for the Wildhammer."_

_"That man just helped to save you from the Orcs beating down your door. Have a little respect."_

_#_

"Hoo," Lothar let out a long breath as finally, he could breath again without feeling he was dragging a knife over one part of his body or the other. The healer back away from him, giving both humans a snide look. 

"Hey," he said, frowning. "Hey, you aren't done here. My leg's not set."

She gave him a mocking bow, and rapped on the bars. The guards let her out. They had a brief conversation, with more of those disrespectful looks and quick smiles that meant nothing good for Lothar. She left, but to his surprise came back a moment later with physical tools of a healer's trade—a wooden splint and padded bandages. 

"No," he said. "Fix it."

"Not leave," she said in Lothar's own tongue. 

"Your leader," he tried again. "I request an audience. Tell him that his people aren't safe. We need to work together to—" 

She gave his leg a nice firm pat when she was done, and he heroically managed not to give her the satisfaction of more than a hiss of pain, though his fingers were white-knuckled from digging into the ground. "Mother of murlocs!" 

Obviously laughing at him, she left again, and this time didn't come back.

At least he had his mobility back. Lothar eased up until his back was propped against the bars. He looked around the room, but it told him nothing other than it was a well-built, solidly-guarded stone fortress. Sconces flickered with orange light on the walls. There were seven Dwarves in the room, two at each entrance, two guarding their prison, and one guarding the base of the stairs. 

He eyed the heavy metal restraints on Khadgar's wrists. "I'm not going to like what those are, am I? Why did you let them do that?"

#

When the Dwarven healer refused to properly heal Lothar's leg, Khadgar felt a flare of anger, and his eyes glowed softly—but there was no outlet for it, of course. He clenched his fists, glaring at her as she left.

At least Lothar was sure to live and some of the pain was surely gone. 

Khadgar moved to sit in front of Lothar, cross-legged on the floor, letting his hands rest in his lap; he could already feel the binding magic in the cuffs leaving light burns on his wrists.

"They're...binding irons. They use them for prisoners with arcane aptitude in Dalaran," he said, trying not to make it sound as uncomfortable as it was—because for a mage, this was intensely uncomfortable and distressing. "They prevent use of the arcane entirely."

He tried to give Lothar a smile, but it probably came off weak. "It was a fair trade. They weren't going to heal you unless I agreed to wear them," he explained. 

#

Lothar looked back at him seriously. The amount of his sacrifice was not lost on him. 

"You saved my life again," he said. 

He ran his eyes over Khadgar's face. As always, his large brown eyes were wide and earnest, and looking at him with that _look_  that was so specific to the mage. They were what had made him underestimate him for so long; that, and his rounded cheeks, full lips, and ghost of a mustache. His appearance was deceptive. He could never read him, not really. 

He wished he knew what Khadgar saw when he looked at him. Did he see the Lion of Azeroth? Did he see a flawed man? The hero-worship had changed into something else as they'd worked together. He still saw flickers of that need for approval, but he was never sure if it was Lothar he needed it from, Khadgar himself, or the world at large. After hearing his story about how the Kirin Tor had dismissed his powers, powers that were beyond their comprehension, it was no wonder the mage seemed as if he thought he had to fight by himself.

He still felt lightheaded from blood loss. He licked his dry lips. "Did you do it?" He asked finally. 

  
#

Khadgar blushed a little, looking down at the floor for a moment. "Part of the job, isn't it? Guardian of Azeroth and all," he joked. Of course, it was much more than that for him, but Lothar didn't need to know that. 

Of course, it was hard to keep anything from Lothar when the man kept _looking_ at him like that.

"I did it. Gul'dan fought me the whole way, but I severed the connection and sabotaged that location for them," he said with a nod. "If they do try again, it will take a long time and a lot of work to find another suitable setup."

Then, Khadgar reached out and smacked Lothar hard on his good arm. " _That's_ for telling me to leave you behind, by the way. If you thought that was ever an option, you're an idiot of a king."

#  


Lothar watched the flush come over Khadgar's cheeks. He did it often, and he was never sure if it was the praise that did it; or that it had to do with the praise coming from him.

As always, Khadgar cleared things up swiftly, in terms of 'Guardian' and 'king'. 

He shook his head, mostly frustrated at himself. Was he really this lonely that he was concerned of thoughts of emotion now, while they were held captive in an enemy camp?

Well, perhaps not enemies, he corrected himself. But they were certainly not allies. Not while his leg was still hitched to a piece of wood and sending stabs of pain into his groin with every shift of his body. 

Khadgar's playful punch to his arm startled him out of his silence. "Khadgar," he said, his voice rough as he dropped all pretenses. "Thank you."

He held his gaze to convey just how much he meant those two simple words. 

#

Khadgar's smile was bright this time, no hint of weakness in it as he took in the earnest expression on Lothar's face. It made his stomach do a flip, knowing that he'd managed to do things right for once.

"You would do the same for me," he said, with every ounce of confidence behind his words. "You _have_ done the same for me. So, it seems we're even now."

He shifted uncomfortably, the iron bindings just this side of too tight. Dwarves didn't like mages, and they weren't taking any chances with a Guardian, especially not one allied with Stormwind. "I couldn't leave you there. Not after everything we've managed to get through," he pointed out softly. "Though I imagine the survivors from that camp are really not going to like us the next time we cross paths. And Gul'dan isn't pleased either, to say the least."

#

Lothar bared his teeth. "I didn't like them first," he said. "And Gul'dan is not on my good side."

He rapped his knuckles on the metal bars of the cage. "Loosen his bindings," he called to the guards, taking in Khadgar's uncomfortable wince. "He didn't help the Wildhammers. He's your Guardian, too." He jerked his head at Khadgar. "I heard you speaking Dwarven. You tell them."

And, as an afterthought, knowing from past experience that persistence could sometimes pay off if you generated enough annoyance, he added: "And I need to speak with your leader. Tell him the Regent of Stormwind requests an audience."

One of the guards turned and bared her teeth at him, tightening her grip warningly on her weapon. 

"Hey! Did you understand me? Is there a translator?" He had been gripping the bars. Her sword pommel came down hard on his knuckles and he drew back, shaking off the blow ruefully. 

"We need to start diplomatic relations," he said ruefully to Khadgar. "We don't have time for this."

#  


Khadgar gave Lothar a look. "I highly doubt they're going to respond favorably to either of us at this point. Your history with them doesn't seem that great," he said a bit sarcastically. 

Besides, it wasn't like loosening the bindings would make them much more comfortable.

"Khaz rodun makarr la an mornarn dor fu-tan. Dor khad haf-tun gurtun," he said to the Dwarf outside the cage, but she just frowned at him.

"Da khor gan to-daran hagh taran tu daf-gar." 

"Fugh rukh burgan da turun ga-kalan gor du dorn? Sekruhn ahn garn khaz-gurun gur tarn synddra du wearn."

She grinned toothily at him. "Tar dar-ku dor tun," she said, and Khadgar flinched the slightest bit.

That, he hadn't expected.

"We might need a plan B if they decide to let us sit here for days," he muttered to Lothar, the irritation making magic hum beneath his skin.

 

Translation:

_"At least allow me an audience with your head of guard. I can explain everything."_

_"You'll have an audience when he decides he wants to deal with you."_

_"You do know the effects of extended use of these? Taking them off will be more dangerous for you the longer you wait."_

_"Then they'll stay on."_

_#_

Lothar frowned. "Maybe you should stop talking to them," he suggested. "My history with them is fine. I don't have a history with them. They just don't like the Wildhammers, if I'm reading them right, who I do have a history with and happen to like me."

He shifted uncomfortably again, pulling his good leg toward him so that he was half-crosslegged. He turned to the female guard. "You're very pretty. Too pretty to work here. I bet you're nice, too, and extremely good with that sword. Why don't you come closer and we can talk for a bit, if you can understand me," he gave her his most beatific smile. 

She called out something to her fellow guard, who grunted, then snorted, then guffawed. 

"Guess she doesn't like human men," Lothar muttered to Khadgar, grinning anyway. "Pity."

He settled more comfortably against the bars, turning his head to watch Khadgar, again. If they did damage to the mage, he decided, his plan for an alliance would be off and Stormwind really would be throwing their might behind the Wildhammers.

What was left of it, at least. He hoped to the Light Westfall still stood strong. 

"So why did you become so loyal to Stormwind?" He asked. Perhaps he was fishing for a complement. Perhaps he just wanted to see Khadgar blush again, and know that there was at least that much camaraderie between them. "The Kirin Tor are neutral, or so I thought."

#

"Because that went _so_ much better," Khadgar pointed out, smirking at Lothar's horribly failed attempt to flirt with the guard. Of course, he wasn't really one to talk; he was fairly sure any flirtatious attempts he made even outside of this situation would go down in flames.

He thought about the question for a moment. "Well, the Kirin Tor are _technically_ neutral. That doesn't mean the individual members don't have their leanings," he pointed out, and then he shrugged and looked back down at his hands.

"I suppose it's because you took me seriously while anyone else would have me thrown in a cell," he said softly—which Lothar had threatened, of course, but not followed through on.

"After you threw me down on a table, anyway," he added with a smirk. 

#  


"It was because of my friendship with Medivh," Lothar said, his eyes losing their focus as he remembered his friend. "He often would say things that seemed to make no sense. He was rarely wrong." He blinked, zeroing in again on Khadgar. "You haven't been, either."

He watched the mage's face carefully for some sign of understanding.

"Llane," he began again, his voice wistful, "Never understood our gut instincts. Medivh's, and my own. He always had to have proof, though toward the end, as you saw, anything that Medivh said went. I think it was loss of hope that did it. During our last meeting, when I accused Medivh...based on your findings, because I was drunk...I never should have said those things publicly, but there was no time. I keep thinking, maybe if I had approached him differently...but then, who would have stood with you against Medivh?" He shook his head, clearing it of the tangential thought. "Llane always had a hard time trusting what wasn't proven fact."

Perhaps it was that he was lightheaded still from his injuries that loosened his tongue so much. He hoped he wouldn't regret it later; but all he felt at that moment was a sense of relief that finally, he had someone to talk to. Too much had been building inside of him since they had first heard about the fel on Azeroth.

He looked down, and picked at the dirt beneath his thumbnail. He never talked about her, his wife, but Khadgar, he thought, might understand. He was softer than his other friends had been, and had less invested in him than his sister—she was too close for reminiscing to be comfortable. "Calla...my wife." He cleared his throat. "She always trusted me though. Even when it seemed like the rest of the world was taken by madness, she was steady and sane, and made me believe I was, too."

#

"I can't blame Llane for that. He was trying to do what was best for his people, and sometimes...sometimes, even for those who know the arcane, being presented with something that's intangible, something that you don't understand...it's easier to resort to what you understand. What you know you can fight," Khadgar said, nodding. He understood how Medivh must have felt in those times when no one would believe him.

When no one else saw things the way he did.

"I'm sorry...about your wife," he added after a few moments. She sounded like she'd been perfect for him; he wondered how she'd died, and when, but wasn't about to ask.

He hesitated, staring downward for a moment before looking back up at Lothar. "I had a friend in the same year of training as me. Olivia," he started, his voice almost breaking on her name. "Closest friend I ever had. We studied together, broke the rules together, everything. She was...the only one who believed the things I started to see were real."

He swallowed hard, looking back down at the floor. "She didn't agree with the way they reacted when I told them. She wasn't happy about me running, but she understood," he said, his voice a little more shaky now. "But when I started sensing the fel in Azeroth, I went to her. Asked her to help me make my case to the Kirin Tor."

He laughed then, but there was no humor in it. "She told me...I'd lost my mind," he said, blinking back the stinging in his eyes. "She was all I had, and she told me that I had gone mad. That the fel couldn't exist here. That's why I came to investigate the attacks alone."

#  


Lothar looked at him with sympathy, then shook his head as if to clear it. He'd gone maudlin, and it wasn't like him. Why didn't it feel uncomfortable?

The only other person, ironically, that he'd been so forthright with had been Calla. 

Khadgar had to realize though that Lothar had gone everywhere he'd told him to, since that first day in the barracks. Despite his seeming innocence, Lothar had trusted his judgment with his life, and it hadn't yet been misplaced. 

"Well, this is a cheery discussion," he said, with an awkward laugh. It wasn't lost on him that he'd already used that line, back when Garona had been with them and she and Khadgar had decided out of nowhere to share their life stories. He hadn't offered his up for a reason, and yet here he was, doing it anyway. Khadgar didn't need to know his sob story. It would be safer for Khadgar to view him only as a regent and not as a friend, so what was he thinking, trying to bond now? Was it just boredom? Was it actually loss of blood? Had the stress of the ongoing and unceasing war finally got to him? 

He hit his head on the bars, unconsciously reprimanding himself for his lack of discretion. 

#  


Khadgar immediately tried to pull himself back under control, because if he'd learned anything in their travels, it was that Lothar didn't like getting touchy-feely, for lack of a better term.

Not that it didn't make his stomach clench a little in embarrassment that he'd said so much. 

"Sorry," he said with a soft laugh. "I know you don't want to hear my sob story. Especially when we're already stuck in a cell."

He winced and ran his fingers along the edges of one iron cuff, where the skin was reddening from the mana burn; he was pretty sure his eyes were starting to glow the slightest bit. It tended to happen when you restrained all of a mage's latent arcane energy inside him; it started to show. It wouldn't get bad for a long while yet, other than the irritation of the burns. 

#  


"What better time?" Lothar drawled. "I'm a captive audience." 

He'd embarrassed Khadgar, that much was clear. He hadn't meant to stop him from telling him about his own history, he'd only wanted to direct his own thoughts away from sad memories. The past was the past. He couldn't change it, and there wasn't enough—any—alcohol present to make him forget it. 

He stared at the blue glow that kept flickering like a candle flame within Khadgar's dark eyes. He was fascinated by it, and didn't know how to ask why it was there. After what happened in Khadgar's room from the nightmare, he didn't want to embarrass the younger man further, if it were still issues of control.

It was beautiful, he thought. Not that he would ever say _that_  out loud. 

But, it was Lothar, and he couldn't really change his nature, so what came out of his mouth was definitely not a complement. "If you feel like blowing something up, that cage door would be a good place to start," he said with a smile. 

#

Khadgar laughed. "Believe me, if I could, I would. But trying to cast with these things on would make things a whole lot worse," he pointed out, doing a double take when he saw the way Lothar was staring at him.

"What?" he asked, looking a bit self-conscious. If he didn't know any better, he'd think that look was...

But no. No, Lothar surely didn't have the same tendency as he did. And even if he did, he wouldn't go for some 'bookworm spellchucker' so much his junior—no, he would go for a warrior. Someone experienced, deadly with a sword, someone more...on his level, so to speak. 

But that look definitely wasn't fear, or irritation, or any of the things he was usually faced with when people were faced with what he was. 

But it wasn't _that_ , either. Couldn't be. 

#

Lothar laughed with him, along with the irrational twinge of disappointment. Damn the Dwarves and their mistrust and knowledge of how the arcane worked. It would make everything so much simpler if Khadgar could port them out. His leg was hurting, the floor was hard, his back (as usual) was twinging, and Khadgar looked no better off.

Plus, he was becoming increasingly annoyed at the sporadic, fleeting looks of discomfort on Khadgar's face, and the way he occasionally touched the heavy metal at his wrists. It was hard to stay focused on being a diplomat, when all he wanted to do was find the Dwarf who'd put those restraints on him and throttle him. 

Since it wouldn't help to talk about it, though, he'd save Khadgar's pride by not asking him how he was doing. 

He startled from his rumination at Khadgar's softly spoken question. It took him a minute to realize the only thing the mage could mean was the way he'd been staring at him. 

Sometimes, the only way to slide past the truth was to tell it. "That light in your eyes. The glow of the arcane. It's fascinating."

#

Khadgar blinked in surprise—then, much to his embarrassment, he felt his cheeks heating up again. "Oh. I, uh...thank you?" he said, though it was obvious from his unsure, questioning tone that he wasn't sure if he was going to get teased for taking it as a compliment.

"Most of the time people are afraid when they see that," he clarified, the words tumbling out as he tried to explain his reaction. "Though I suppose there's nothing risky about it right now, right?"

It was a weak attempt at a joke—also trying to distract the fact that he'd gotten so flustered over _one compliment_ from Lothar.

He really was pretty smitten, wasn't he? 

#  


Khadgar's discomfort was too obvious to miss, and in a mixture of frustration and the desire to make Khadgar understand at least part of what he felt toward him, he pressed forward instead of changing the subject. "You've used it too many times to save my life," Lothar said, his voice deep. "I would never fear that color of light in your eyes."

He let his eyes linger on Khadgar's a moment longer, just because he could, right then, without question or reproach. 

He shifted again, stretching his bent leg out in front of him, and looked outside of the cage. The guards were well-trained; they hadn't moved from their posts, and none of them talked. He wondered how much of their conversation was being understood, but it wasn't like it mattered. Their histories were not a matter of Stormwind's security. 

"The red in theirs, though," he muttered under his breath to Khadgar. "I wonder what causes it?"

#

Khadgar smiled then, because he would never regret how often he'd defended Lothar as best he could with his magic; and he would do it whenever he could for the rest of his life.

Light, if Lothar needed him to try and cast through these accursed bindings, he wouldn't hesitate, no matter the pain and the futility.

That should have scared him, but...it didn't. It was more of a certainty, just a fact he'd come to know of himself. 

"They dig deep into the land looking for Titan artifacts," he said, equally quiet so they wouldn't be overheard. "The magic left behind by the Titans is...chaotic. Unpredictable. Not evil, but not to be meddled with. There's too much we don't know; there's no telling what they've found that would affect their people's physiology. That's probably where they got these bindings; Light knows the Kirin Tor would raise hell if one of their own set of bindings were to go missing. They keep them behind lock, key, portal, and curse."

#

"So they're affected by magic, and still fear yours enough to restrain you," Lothar shook his head in disgust, and his anger flashed briefly in his eyes. He cast the room at large a baleful look. "They should fear the fel enough then to give us their help."

"You should tell your leader I need to speak with him!" He yelled.

Both guards, that time, clanged their weapons against the bars, and yelled something unintelligible right back at him. It was loud enough and the looks they shot Khadgar warning enough for him to settle back down without protest.

Lothar sighed. It was going to be a long wait until they found out what the Dwarves had planned for them. 

Khadgar, he realized then, had gone from one disaster to the next, and hadn't gotten a proper rest in days. 

"Come here," he suggested softly, watching Khadgar with curiosity in his eyes. He couldn't guess whether the mage would accept his help now that they had nothing better to do or not. "Use my shoulder and get some rest. I'll take first watch." 

#

About a thousand emotions probably flitted across Khadgar's face in the span of a second. On the one hand...his mind was giving a resounding 'yes, please' to both the idea of being that close to Lothar and to the idea of sleeping on something that wasn't the hard floor of a cell. On the other, he could only imagine the teasing or strange looks he'd get if he seemed too eager.

But he _was_ really tired. And that was an understatement. 

And the one and only good thing about the bindings was that he didn't have to worry about casting in his sleep this time.

He started to move, then hesitated. "Are you sure? You're still injured. I know they didn't heal you properly," he said with open concern and a glance at Lothar's leg.

He paid no attention to the glares of the Dwarves. They may have bound his magic, but his anger at them was enough that there was no room for fear.

#

Lothar grinned openly at Khadgar's hesitation, but his gaze softened at the expression of concern. "My leg isn't attached to my shoulder, spell-chucker. I'm fine."

He paused, then added, more quietly, "And I won't bite." He tilted his head in clear challenge. "One of us should stay awake." He glanced sideways, indicating the Dwarves. "But it makes no sense for both of us to be tired. We left in the dead of night and these past few days have been...eventful. Even for us."

"Us." The words rang in his ears as he said them. It was true, though. Where once it had been him, Llane, and Medivh, now it was he and this new Guardian. Not the same, but not worse. Only different. 

It was strange how he felt the potential for things to be easy, smoother between him and Khadgar than it had been with his other friends, if only they could dispel the nameless tension that thrummed between them. Maybe it was the mage's perpetual desire to prove himself; maybe it was Lothar's own inability to really open up. 

It wasn't as if he could force his own nature, though. Every person he'd let into his life was now dead, or had betrayed him, other than his own sister.

Maybe he thought about that too much. This was why he tried not to stay sober.

"Come here," he encouraged.

#

Khadgar gave Lothar a _look_ —that's not what he'd meant—but he was too tired to argue. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten more than a couple hours of sleep at a time.

Maybe when he was comatose.

He gave in, moving in close to Lothar and tucking his head against the warrior's shoulder. He was afraid Lothar could probably feel his heart hammering away in his chest, but once he got settled and comfortable, it was easy enough to relax. It was actually...really nice, like this. He kind of wished he could do this when they weren't trapped in a Dwarven prison cell. He tried to shift so the iron cuffs on his wrist weren't digging into Lothar at all, but after that, it wasn't long before he drifted off to sleep.

He didn't even notice the incredulous looks and raised eyebrows from their Dwarven guards, which probably would have set his face aflame all over again.

#

Lothar smiled as Khadgar acquiesced and finally, _finally,_ after they were both locked up in a cage he managed to convince Khadgar to sleep. It had taken them a week to get to this point at least, and he wasn't above gloating to himself about small victories. 

Karazhan, the castle, the skirmish with the Orcs, then this mess...he couldn't help but envy the energy of the young. 

The thing was, he mused, it should have made him feel older to be around someone with the optimism and stamina of someone a decade or more his junior, but as it was, it just made him feel like he was youthful again as well. He felt like he had a partner. It reminded him in many ways, albeit vastly different ways, of the trouble he and Calla had gotten into around Stormwind and Elwood Forest, back when their cares were all but absent. 

It was a strange feeling, and an unsettling one.

He sent a glare tinged with a smile at the guards, who were obviously mocking them in their lilting, rough tongue. If they wanted to make something of it, they would have to open up the cage. 

And that was exactly what Lothar wanted. 

He felt Khadgar's breathing even out, and he settled back, moving him gently into a more comfortable position and looking down at him. The mage's mouth was parted underneath his slight mustache, his face relaxed. He looked more like he had the first day he'd met him in the barracks, when his responsibilities had been less.  

That voice though, he remembered. The spell he'd tried to cast sounded sure and powerful, and for a moment, he really had felt threatened by the then-unfamiliar trespasser, wide brown eyes be damned.

He admired him, he realized. He admired Khadgar for recognizing that he was different, and embracing it. Instead of letting his elders and his friends tell him who he was, he accepted his nature and trusted in it.

The world had been saved by the decisions this young mage had made. 

He went back to staring at the Dwarves, amused at the way he finally got them to shift in discomfort. 

#

Khadgar actually slept fairly well, considering this wasn't exactly like his bed back at Stormwind.

And wasn't that odd enough, to think he, of all people, had his own room in the _castle_ in Stormwind? If you'd told him that a year ago, he would have laughed.

When he did wake up from his blissfully peaceful sleep, it was from the mounting discomfort of the restless magic inside him, seeming to hum under his skin; his wrists were noticeably red under the iron cuffs, and when he opened his eyes, he needed no mirror to tell that the glow in them was noticeable now. He blinked a few times and took just a moment to enjoy the feeling of Lothar's chest rising and falling before he finally lifted his head with a groan, flexing his fingers to try and alleviate the ache in his wrists.

"How long has it been...?"

#  


Lothar smiled at Khadgar as he blinked open his eyes. "Long enough for the guards to change," he said. "I should have followed through on my threat to throw you in the barracks, if it really was what you needed to get some rest."

He watched with concern as Khadgar obviously tried to work feeling back into his fingers. He wanted to take them in his own and help massage the mage's hands, but between the audience they had and the already blurry line of his feelings good sense won out. 

"How long are you planning to keep us here?" He called out to the guards. "We can't make very good entertainment. I certainly can't dance." He indicated his bad leg. 

"One of them," he muttered. "Surely one of them speaks our tongue."

His prayers were answered as a smooth, accented baritone said, "So here is the mighty Lord of Stormwind, Lion of Azeroth, Friend of the Wildhammers and Enemy of the Dark Irons."

Lothar looked around, taken off guard, before focusing on a Dwarf who was descending the stairs, clad in dark, shining armor embedded with jewels. His hair and beard and intricate braids threaded through them, but his eyes were as red and stoic as all the rest. 

"That last part," Lothar said, "I would argue. I would like to be a friend of the Dark Iron clan as well."

"As well," the Dwarf sounded disgusted. "The Wildhammers are no kin of ours. I've heard of your exploits in the north, Anduin Lothar. And this. You bring a mage with you, into our lands, and try to say you've come as an ally?"

"This is the Guardian of Azeroth," Lothar said placidly. "He is a friend to all our peoples, and a protector. Just now he cast out a dark magic that the Orcs have brought with them. Surely you saw the encampment nearby?"

He slid a questioning gaze toward Khadgar. Since he'd been unconscious, he actually wasn't sure how far away the Orc camp was.

  
#

Khadgar stiffened and lifted his chin as the new Dwarf appeared, obviously the 'leader' Lothar had been requesting all along. Though he could tell from the words and the tone of the Dwarf's voice that this was likely not to go well.

That, and Khadgar had no way of suppressing the glow in his eyes, which wouldn't help his case on the whole 'mage' thing.

"I didn't come here to cause conflict with your people," he said, his voice firm but still deferential, at least trying to make a good impression. "The Orcs were attempting to use those encampments as part of a demon summoning ritual. I used a counterspell to make sure they couldn't achieve that, but I didn't have the strength to port us all the way back to safety. Otherwise we would have cut off the enemy for you and been gone again without disturbing you and yours."

He hesitated, and then decided to take the risk. "Considering that Orc encampment is less than six hours ride from your doorstep, and the Orcs were ready to bring war upon you, I would have hoped for a little more than being thrown in a cell and bound like a criminal, and watching your healer treat a _king_ worse than she might a peasant."

...yeah, he was more than a little mad about that, and he was probably risking the Dwarves deciding to leave these bindings on him longer, but he couldn't help it. The Kirin Tor had better hospitality, and they were renowned for being snobby and standoff-ish.

  
#

Lothar winced, both at Khadgar's tone and his words, but to his surprise the Dark Iron leader let out a chortle from deep in his belly. "Bravery! Those are some heavy claims, when I have seen no evidence of an enemy camp. I think you're here to steal the secrets of the Titans, mage."

The Dwarf came down the final steps of the stairs, his armor clanking. "And I see no king. I've heard that Stormwind has a child-king in line for the throne. I see a placeholder." He sneered, baring his teeth. 

"You are correct," Lothar admitted easily. "But titles aside, I command Stormwind's armies, and have the aid of its allies. My sister is the Queen. Despite our circumstances," Lothar gestured to their prison, and the room, "We have come to ask for your aid, and to offer our own. The Orcs threaten all of this land, yours and mine, and what the Guardian said is true. They are at your threshold, and it will not be long before they push north. The Orcs are under the command of a dark wizard. You have no cause to fear my friend here; his magic will only be used for the good of Azeroth. Though know this: he stopped a demon from entering this world twice, defeated an army of Orcs single handedly, and stood against the might of Orgrim Doomhammer. If I were you I would try to curry his favor. Your bindings are the work of a fool and a coward."

The Dwarf hit his metal gauntlet on the stone wall, making a sharp clang that resonated throughout the room. "You dare insult me?"

"You cannot afford to make enemies of Stormwind," Lothar said softly. "By your own words, I am merely the regent and commander. How you treat us will be remembered by others."

"Hm." The Dwarf frowned mightily at him. 

#  


"If it were up to me, the secrets of the Titans would _stay_ buried. I've no need of their questionable forms of power," Khadgar pointed out. He could spend hundreds of lifetimes studying the arcane and still not come close to knowing everything about it; and he did not trust things left behind by the Titans. He had no need of a whole new form of magic to study that was likely to backfire at any moment.

The arcane could be wielded, shaped, controlled, for the most part. Titan magic was like finding a tome filled with unlabeled spells and casting them blind one by one just to see what they did.

"Let me show you the camp," he suddenly said—he knew Lothar wouldn't like this, but it was the best way he could think of to earn some trust from these paranoid fools. They had to do _something_ to bridge this gap. "You already have my powers bound. You know I'm of no threat to you right now. Let me lead your scouts to the Orc camp, so you can know that we speak truth. Then you can decide if it is worth considering an alliance to defeat this foe."

Really the fact alone that a mage willingly allowed these cuffs to be put on should have been proof enough that they were honest, but Dwarves obviously didn't know the intricacies and symbolism of the Kirin Tor society.

#  


Lothar gave Khadgar a surreptitious kick with his good leg. What in the name of the fel did he think he was doing? Negotiations were going well. He didn't want Khadgar going anywhere near an Orc camp with a bunch of hostile Dwarves, especially not with his magic restrained. 

"Or," Lothar said, loudly, "You can heal my leg, we can sit down for a meal and drink, and we can talk about our possible alliance."

He glared at Khadgar. Options were the last thing he had wanted to give this recalcitrant Dwarf. 

"You have to know I was not aiding the Wildhammer against you. They have a troll problem that you must be aware of. We need their skills with gryphons to launch an aerial attack against these Orcs. It has nothing to do with your clan."

  
#

The Dwarf looked between the two of them with a smile that didn't bode well for them; he'd noticed the protectiveness, and was more than ready to use it to keep the upper hand. 

"I think those are both good ideas," he said, and the then he snapped his fingers at the guards. "Captain, you and two scouts go with the mage. He will lead you to a vantage point to see this supposed 'Orc camp'. He stays bound, and if he gives you any trouble, kill him."

He paused and looked to his healer. "Heal our guest's leg well enough that he won't re-break it walking around. Take him to the war room for...negotiations," he added, and then he looked back at his captain. "If negotiations...fail, we'll send four bursts of smoke from the gateway. That will be your permission to execute the mage for trespassing in our land."

Khadgar's eyes widened—that wasn't negotiation, that was blackmail—but before he could act the door to the cage was swing open and two guards were dragging him to his feet. "Lothar—" he started, but one of the guards shoved him forward, seemingly not interested in allowing the prisoners any time to communicate. 

#

Inwardly, Lothar cursed. First the Dwarf, second Khadgar, and third himself, for even letting the mage speak in the first place. He had no bargaining chips; whatever the Dwarves asked for, they'd be getting, and they knew it. 

"Stormwind thanks you," he said dryly, letting just a tinge of warning flow into the words. "And please remember while you're playing with the Guardian's life: Azeroth itself may depend on him. Since you live here, it may be you'll want to reconsider your terms."

"Not likely!" The Dwarf chief guffawed. 

The guards accompanied the healer inside the cage and she set to work. Lothar looked past her, a little desperately, toward Khadgar, but there was little he could say in the way of reassurance. The Dwarf had been right; Lothar's place was more on a battlefield than in a throne room. He couldn't guess how speaking with the Dark Irons might work in their favor. 

On the bright side, his leg started to feel better, and relief seeped into the rest of his body along with it. He'd gotten to the point where he'd forgotten what it felt like not to be in mind—numbing pain. You'd think as a battlescarred warrior he'd get used to it, but the only thing he really gained was how to think through an injury, not how to ignore it. "Thank you," he told the healer sarcastically. 

She rolled her eyes at him, but her touch had been sure. He dragged himself to his feet, stiff from sitting in one place so long while having had to hold himself still. He bounced experimentally while the Dwarves watched him warily, weapons at ready. 

"Come," the Dwarf chief barked. 

The guards flanked him and took him away. 

#  


It was obvious that the Dwarves assigned to follow Khadgar had no trust in him whatsoever, whatever title he might hold. Two of them had their weapons out and at the ready even before they left the safety of the city carved into the mountainside, and then even once outside, they seemed more intent on keeping their weapons on the mage than keeping lookout. 

It was clear they didn't believe him about the Orc camp. 

They mounted the horse—size mountain goats, tethered Khadgar's mount to the captain's mount, and then they were off, following the directions Khadgar gave—though every few minutes, the captain looked back toward the gate of the city, as if hoping to see the smoke. 

"I can't wait to see that smoke rise over the horizon so I can extinguish that foul light in your eyes and get back to my dinner," the captain said, confirming Khadgar's suspicions. He took in a deep breath, the irritation enough to stir up the pent up magic in him—but he could do nothing about it.

"I apologize for wasting your precious time with things like the _safety of all lives in Azeroth_ ," he muttered, but the Dwarf just snorted. 

#

Back at the throne room, Lothar was having little better luck with the Dwarves. The leader was eating messily while Lothar tried not to devour what was on his plate, opting instead to take in all the details of the room, from the demeanor of the guards, to the trappings and decorations indicative of a sparse but rich and nostalgic taste, to the chief's own pointed disrespect. He was baiting him, he knew; hoping for an opportunity to kill Khadgar.

"I'd like to apologize," he began, pitching his voice to match his words. "I wasn't aware of the feud between you and the northern Dwarf clans."

"Ignorance is no excuse," the Dwarf growled, ripping into a chicken leg and dribbling grease into his beard.

"Very well. But my apology stands."

"You would not have helped them had you known?" His voice was mocking.

"What I said was true," Lothar deflected. "We need their gryphons and their help. I'm not sure what bad blood stands between you, but..." he noticed the sharp way the chief was suddenly looking at him. "...I have no interest in your politics. Your judgment is obviously supreme when it comes to the leadership of your clan."

The Dwarf settled back into his chair, grumpily. "Wise words, from a pretender-king."

Lothar held up his hands. "Think of me as an emissary if you will not respect my position. Your captain is going to return with the Guardian, and they will hold up what we've told you. If we join together we can come at the Orcs from two sides, hemming them into the valley. Their chief is strong; I've gone against Orcs before and won—"

"Yes, so I've heard the tales of the southern battle," the chief mused. He stroked his beard, considering. "Yet you were near death when we found you. It makes one wonder how much of that reputation of yours is myth."

"I do not know what you've heard so I cannot speak to the truth of it. My reputation should hold little value here. I am speaking on behalf of Stormwind. Its stronghold and its armies would make good allies for you."

"What makes you think we need help?"

"Maybe not against their soldiers," Lothar lied, thinking that the Dwarves came up to the knees of the Orcs, "But against their magic. I know you have no love of mages and that's why you restrained the Guardian. But he's been able to stop the evil that the Orcs' sorcerer brought with them. It's unlike anything I've seen. It's terrible. I do not have words to describe what I witnessed done with that power."

The Dwarf chief tapped his knife against the table, obviously thinking on his words.

#

Khadgar was beginning to really feel the first effects of his bindings by the time they reached an overlook from which the camp could be seen. His skin was red and bruised under the iron cuffs, and a slow, dull ache had settled in his head and chest, but he didn't dare show signs of weakness around his captors.

From the overlook, the Orc presence couldn't be denied—and neither could the effects of Khadgar's spell. The ground was split in a spiderweb of crevasses out from the center of the camp, where the Orcs wee arguing amongst themselves and tending to their wounded.

The Dwarf captain said nothing, but his face settled into a deep frown.

He turned the riders around, and the ride back took half as long in their haste to reach the mountain; they were no less gentle with him, though, two Dwarves nearly dragging him along behind the captain as they made for the war room.

"Your Majesty," the captain said as they entered the room, and two of the Dwarves shoved Khadgar down into a chair against the wall. He was relieved to see Lothar there, looking no worse for wear—aside from the still healing injuries, of course. "There's an Orc camp a few hours south. Looks like it took some damage, but there's lots of 'em still alive."

Khadgar said nothing; he closed his eyes for a few moments and tried to focus on dampening his magic within himself. It wasn't something he'd ever tried, and it didn't work; he opened his eyes again and took a deep breath, the whole room having taken on an unearthly blue sheen due to the intense vibrance of the glow in his eyes now.

#  


Lothar gestured as if to say, "See?" He spread his hands wide. "From your own men. We're not lying. We want to help you."

He looked over at Khadgar. His eyes were taking an unearthly sheen, much like he'd appeared during the aftermath of his nightmare back in his room at the castle. He was nearly trembling, and it turned Lothar's stomach to see. 

"You're torturing my mage," _My mage,_ he rolled his eyes at himself for echoing his sister's words, but never did it feel more right. "Take his bindings off. We've done nothing to threaten you. We've talked peacefully despite being caged and left with injuries that your healers could have helped. We've agreed to your demands. These are not the actions of a civilized clan. I know you're better than this."

The Dwarf chief had narrowed his eyes at Lothar, and for a heartstopping minute he was afraid he'd ended Khadgar's life by pushing him too far. 

"Be careful with your words," was what the Dwarf grunted finally, and waved a hand at his guards. "We are not allies yet."

Lothar bowed where he sat, showing respect and considering how he'd love nothing more than to get his hands around the little bastard's neck. He shot a look toward Khadgar, checking for some sign that he was okay, and failing that, not about to blast a hole in the Dwarven stronghold and ruin their chance for peace.

#

Khadgar blinked and got a strange, warm feeling at the thought of Lothar referring to him as 'my mage'—he could get used to that.

But he shouldn't. Light, he shouldn't. Lothar was just looking out for him, nothing more.

He should have been happy that the bindings were coming off, and he was, but there was also worry—he knew what happened when suppressed powers suddenly had an outlet. "Wait," he said to the guards, and then he tugged the leather strap of his shoulder bag up and clenched it between his teeth before he held out his wrists and nodded. It would be easier to let the suppressed energy out in one burst, but that would end in a light show that would likely get them both shot and cause some property damage.

So instead, when the cuffs were snapped free by a very nervous guard, Khadgar nearly bit through the leather strap as he attempted to control the overwhelming burst of energy. It was like being held down in lightning; his eyes pulsed bright and he made a strangled noise of pain as he took back control, but over a few moments, he managed to alleviate the pressure without any concerning shows of magic. He dropped the leather strap and put his head between his knees for a few moments, taking deep breaths until the dizziness passed.

When he raised his head again, his eyes were quickly fading back to the usual dark brown. "Thank you," he said, a bitter edge to his tone as he gently rubbed the raw skin of his wrists. "It's likely that my attack will focus the Orcs' attention south, in retaliation. Your people have the opportunity to catch them off guard, if you wish to go on the offensive."

#

Lothar had half risen from his seat, making to go to Khadgar without realizing it. His face was a grimace of sympathy. He hated to give the Dark Irons more fodder to use against them, however, so he forced himself to act as though he were just reaching for more food. 

As it was, he sent a smile toward Khadgar for his words. He would never have guessed the Guardian would have turned out to be a strategist, but he was doing half of Lothar's work for him when it came to planning, and though he would not admit it aloud, likely more than half. 

He nodded at the Dwarf chief. "We had word they would attack Sentinel Hill in Darkshire, so that is where most of our forces are now. Since we've been here I do not know how that venture is going. We don't have as many troops to send as we would otherwise, but if you choose to do that, we'll give you what help we can. As it was, we were only here to stop the fel. That's the magic I mentioned earlier—twisted, evil, and too powerful."

The chief was looking at Khadgar as if he were a particularly nasty snake, which is why Lothar was surprised when he finally nodded and grunted. "We'll do our own scouting," he conceded. "And then we'll send word to you at Stormwind if we consider these Orcs and their magic to be enough of a threat to warrant our involvement."

"That's all we can ask," Lothar practically collapsed with relief. 

#

Khadgar was, sadly, quite used to the looks he was still getting from the Dwarves; the stigma against magic was astronomical in some places and among some groups of people, and the Dwarves were one of those groups. He could probably shield this whole mountain from an invasion and they would still treat him like some kind of pest.

And after the Guardian's betrayal, the stigma only seemed to be growing.

"I'm able to port us when need be," he said to Lothar, an offer of 'let's find an excuse to get out of here and back to Stormwind, fast'; but the Dwarven captain made an angry grunt and turned to his chief.

"Rune kost modor kha grum haldji gol'gethrunon modr mitta hor ruk hoga?!"

Khadgar snorted. "Grum 'haldji gol'gethrunon' skalf Rugosh, ta mos dum," he said, earning another round of glares from the room.

**Translation:**

_"We're just gonna let this filthy spelltosser walk right out the door?!"_

_"This 'filthy spelltosser' speaks Dwarvish, by the way."_

_#_

 Lothar pushed his chair back so fast he almost knocked it over. He came to stand by Khadgar, gripping his elbow. "Don't talk to them," he gritted through a smile, afraid whatever Khadgar was saying was going to get them into more trouble. "I'm not arguing for once."

To the chief, he said, "Thank you for your..." Not hospitality, what was the word? "Audience. I'll await your decision on our alliance."

He gave Khadgar a nudge with his elbow.

#

Khadgar still thought it was totally worth it to see the angry looks when they realized they couldn't have secret chats in their own language without the 'filthy spelltosser' overhearing them.

But he wasn't about to argue. He decided to get them out of there quick; he'd only done a few ports without drawing runes or speaking the spell aloud, but now was as good a time as any to practice. He stood up and took his staff from where they had it leaning against the wall, and then he swirled it in a flourish over the ground around himself and Lothar, drawing the energy up into his fist. His eyes glowed, and he ignored the disgusted looks from the Dwarves as he forced the energy downward, wordlessly opening up the pathway.

The two of them reappeared in Stormwind's throne room—much to the displeasure of the guards on duty—and Khadgar winced as the mana burns on his wrists ached with the spell casting. 

"Are you alright? You should probably see one of the healers here. I don't trust theirs," he immediately said, turning to Lothar. 

#

"Me?" Lothar said in disbelief, grabbing one of Khadgar's hands so he could take a better look at it. "What did they do to you? Why did suppressing your magic cause burns on your arms?" 

Just then, there was a flurry of light footsteps and a rustle of fabric. "I thought you were dead!" Taria cried out upon seeing them. "Next time I expect you in person if you are going to go on a suicide mission, Lothar."

"We're alive," he grumbled, and stepped away from Khadgar to embrace her. His expression warmed and he jerked his head at the mage. "Thanks to him. We have quite a story to tell."

"Is it a story I want to hear?" Taria questioned. 

"Partly," Lothar grinned. "We got our audience with the Dark Iron Dwarves after all."

"What is the rest of it?" She frowned, looking between the two men. 

"They don't like mages, and they thought I was conspiring with the Wildhammers, so most of that audience was spent in a cage." He of course was omitting large parts of that part of their tale, if he could help it. "For the record, the Orcs have a mountain of a general. We'll have to watch out for him."

Taria's hand flew to her mouth, and she looked very much like she wanted to blame one or both of them.

"And the rune?" She asked instead. "Were you successful?"

#

Khadgar tugged his hand free and pulled down his sleeves a bit when the queen entered the room; he really didn't want her to worry even more. And maybe Lothar would forget about the question, so Khadgar wouldn't have to explain—because he was pretty sure Lothar would be even more angry with him for letting them bind him if he knew what _could_ have happened.

"We were successful," he assured Taria. "I destroyed the rune and sabotaged the link to the others. If they want to try the same thing again, it will take a long time to find a proper setup, and it won't be ideal."

He turned back to Lothar and gave him a stern look. "I'm serious. Go see a healer, just to be sure. I'll be fine, and my wounds aren't the kind a healer can do anything for anyway," he insisted. Mana poisoning, mana deprivation, and mana burns were all things that had to be healed by strength of will and time—the Light could do nothing for it. 

#

Lothar made a point of making a long-suffering sigh, but thought that maybe he could set a good example for Khadgar if he actually did go to a healer...or acted like he was. 

He leaned in to Taria, and murmured, "Ask about his wrists."

He left the hall, thought about going to his rooms, but then recalled the nasty look the Dwarven healer kept giving him and changed his mind.

Maybe a second checkup wouldn't hurt after all.

When he found the castle healer, she only rolled her eyes and said something about how she should have expected him.

#  


Taria turned to Khadgar and pulled him into a hug as well, much to his surprise, and then leaned back and held him by the shoulders. "I'm glad you're alright, Khadgar. Lothar would be beside himself if he lost you in battle."

Khadgar chuckled. "Well, I'd rather not see him get pummeled by Orcs either, so we're even there," he said, and she gave him a look and held out her hand.

"Let me see," she said, and Khadgar hesitated, then sighed and placed his hand in hers. She pushed his sleeve up, light fingers barely touching the bruised and reddened skin of his wrist. "They shackled you? With binding irons?"

"I agreed to it. Otherwise they weren't going to send in a healer for Lothar," he explained, and she hummed softly. He frowned at her. "How did you know what caused this?"

She looked up at him with a sly smile. "Llane always wanted me to help handle the diplomacy with the Kirin Tor. They seemed to respond better to me. I learned as much as I could to make them feel more comfortable with me," she said. "Does Lothar know?"

Khadgar shrugged half—heartedly. "He knows they were... uncomfortable."

"But none of the rest?"

"I didn't want to worry him."

She released his hand, then gripped his arm gently. "He needs to know. In case it happens again," she said, and Khadgar groaned. 

"He'll be angry with me."

"Yes, he will," Taria said, and then she smiled. "But he can't stay mad at you. You're important to him, Khadgar, and not just as the Guardian of this realm. Now, go make sure he actually went to see the healer, would you?"

He wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but she was already moving away, talking to one of the guards. Khadgar sighed again, and then headed for the infirmary—and was pleasantly relieved to find Lothar had actually gone there.

"Still in one piece?" he asked with a smile as the healer finished her work. 

#  


Lothar couldn't help but send Khadgar a smug look for being exactly where he said he'd be. 

"I think that blighted Dwarf healed me wrong on purpose. I didn't remember what it felt like to be put together properly." He thanked his healer, who was looking pleased with herself. He grinned. "But you survived speaking with my sister. It's me who should be asking you that—still in one piece?"

He got off the healer's table and joined Khadgar by the doorway. He would wonder why he was there, but on the other hand, he knew Taria. 

"You," he called over to the healer, reflecting he should really ask her name. "Come look him over now, would you? There's something wrong with his wrists."

#  


"'Your sister isn't that bad," Khadgar said, rolling his eyes as the healer moved immediately to his side. He offered up his hands, but gave her an apologetic look. "They're mana burns. I'm afraid there's not much you can do for them."

She 'tssk'd at him and shook her head. "Haven't seen mana burns like this in a long time. You should be more careful," she said, letting go of his hands. "I'll see if I can't have a trader bring in some liferoot oil. That should help with the pain a bit, at least."

She passed by him and left the room, and Khadgar gave Lothar a bashful look. "They're not...physical wounds, really. They manifest physically, but the injury isn't on the same plane. If she healed them, they would come right back," he explained. "It has to heal over time, unfortunately."

#  


Lothar stepped forward and gently took Khadgar's hand in his own. He turned his wrist from side to side, frowning at what he saw. He muttered several creative curses about the Dark Irons and their parentage under his breath.

"How long?" He asked, running his thumb just shy of the marks with a featherlight touch.

Suddenly realizing what he was doing, he dropped Khadgar's hand as if burned. He stepped back, turning away and running his hand through his hair in embarrassment. 

"Your selflessness saved my life, again. That Orc had killed me," he said. "Orgrim Doomhammer," he tested the name on his lips. "I have a feeling that I'll be facing him again."

#  


Khadgar gave Lothar a look of confusion when he suddenly stepped back; he glanced down at his own wrist and shrugged. "Maybe a week, I suppose?"

He frowned at the memory of finding Lothar in that camp, a massive Orc standing over him, ready to deal the deathblow. "And I'll be there next time to throw his own hammer back in his face again, too," he muttered, and then he laughed weakly.

"Besides, we're still even. You saved my life without even knowing it, so," he said softly with a half shrug. If Lothar hadn't talked his way out of that whole debacle with the Dwarves. Khadgar would probably will be sitting in the dungeon with those cuffs latched on tight. 

#

Lothar turned at that and gave Khadgar a considering look. "Yes," he said. "You probably will, won't you?" He shook his head, frustrated between wanting to keep the mage safe, and the realization, sharp and sure, that it was going against Khadgar's nature to do so. It was just as much Khadgar's duty as Guardian to be by his side while he was regent as it was his to protect Stormwind.

He couldn't keep his own son safe. It was time, he thought, to accept the circumstances and respect the decisions of those around him. The outcome was going to be the same either way; he was never going to be able to protect himself from loss. He might as well do what he could to prevent it so that no more blood would stain his hands.

"You weren't able to keep me off of you in the barracks," he mused. "It was too easy for me to silence you. One hand on your mouth and you were nothing more than a kitten." He smirked, knowing the insult would prompt Khadgar's compliance. "And with items like those torture devices the Dark Irons have, you won't always have your magic to fight with." He put a hand on Khadgar's shoulder. "I'm going to train you to fight with your hands, Khadgar. You won't always have me there when your abilities are incapacitated. I want you to be able to protect yourself."

#

Khadgar looked like he'd just been told that Lothar was _actually_  half lion; his eyes widened almost comically. "Train me to _fight_?" he repeated. Of course, the jab about being a _kitten_  stung at his pride, but at the same time, the thought of him picking up a sword and shield seemed fairly ridiculous to him.

He'd never been much good at any hand to hand combat before. Spells and book were comfortable for him.

That, and the idea of going into any sort of combat without a spell on his tongue made his heart race.

"I, uh...I don't see as how it would make much difference when we're mostly up against _Orcs_ ," he pointed out, obviously grasping at straws for an excuse. He remembered the feeling of that Orc's massive had clamped over his mouth; he doubted any kind of fighting skill would have gotten him out of that one, should the Orc want to kill him. "Even your most seasoned warriors have trouble there, let alone...well, _me_."

#

"Orcs and Dwarves," Lothar said, amused. "Scorpids, in the desert. Gnolls, in the Redridge Mountains. Bandits, right here in Elwood Forest." He held up a placating hand. "And yes, most of those things I know you can handle. I've seen you take on demons. I haven't forgotten how many times I've needed your help. So let me extend mine to you."

He gave Khadgar a gentle look. "None of us are strong enough to take the Orcs by force. It's cunning and speed that give us the advantage. But it won't hurt you to learn." He smiled. "Chucking a book at their head would probably just make them angry, so I don't care what you choose—stave, or sword—but choose a weapon and tell me when you're ready. We should start as soon as we are able. There are too many threats to our safety to delay."

He took in Khadgar's fearful expression, and patted him lightly on the shoulder. "You can't tell me you're afraid of training with me, or you'd do what I say more often."

#  


"I'm not _afraid_ of training with you," Khadgar insisted, shifting his weight nervously from foot to foot. He could already feel his face heating up a little.

He wasn't used to being bad at things. Everyone told him what a fast learner he was, how talented he was with spells and academics—

Then there was combat without magic. A whole different story.

"I took one course in hand to hand combat in Dalaran. Well, _half_ a course. Olivia didn't want to do it alone," he blurted, looking absolutely anywhere but at Lothar. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. 

"The instructor kicked me out halfway through. Said I was _hopeless_. Holding everyone else back," he muttered. "I kept accidentally panicking and casting spells."

#

"Mm," Lothar said, his grin widening. "These will be private lessons, bookworm, so you won't have anyone else to worry about but yourself." He showed his teeth. He couldn't help himself. Khadgar was definitely worried about training with him, and he was just too easy to tease.

"Besides, you've used your magic enough on me. It's time for you to spend a little time in my element, don't you think?"

He turned Khadgar's words over in his mind, and settled on a solution. But oh, the mage wasn't going to like it.

"And don't worry about that last bit." His smile was positively feral. "Trust me."

#

Khadgar might have been comforted were it anyone else but Lothar he was speaking with. No, he had the feeling this was going to involve a lot of frustration and a lot of pain from bumps and bruises, at the least. He gave Lothar a suspicious look.

"I think I'll worry about it regardless. _Especially_ coming from you," he pointed out, wondering what the warrior had up his sleeve. He almost didn't want to know.

But he should probably find out, considering he had the feeling he wasn't getting out of this.

"So what's your genius plan, then?" he asked in a mutter.

#

"You wound me," Lothar clutched a hand above his heart. He made to leave the room, purposely brushing shoulders with Khadgar on his way. He paused and leaned over to whisper in his ear, "And you'll find out. Find me by the training dummies. I'll understand if you need to take some time to gather up your courage, spell-chucker."

Grinning to himself, Lothar went to find Taria. She had something he needed before they could start.

#

 


	3. Third Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which they finally get on a first-name basis

#

Khadgar frowned and pressed his hands to his face for a few moments; this was not going to go well, and he knew it. If Lothar hadn't had teasing material before, he would have plenty after this.

But he couldn't just flat out say no. Lothar was right; it would be advantageous to know even the most basic self defense without casting, even if he spent all his time hoping he'd never have to use it. 

But then he remembered that one course he'd taken, and the day he'd gotten kicked out of it—for accidentally arcane blasting his tutor right into a wall in a panic after getting disarmed. 

He went to the training dummies like someone walking to an executioner, though he _was_ pleasantly surprised to find no one else in the training area at the moment. He waited for Lothar to arrive, sitting down on a bench by the stone wall, getting more nervous by the second. 

#  


Lothar was pleased to see Khadgar had gone immediately to the training field; he had almost expected the mage to port himself back to Karazhan to get out of it.

He had a bright blue scarf with the Lion's crest embroidered on it wrapped around one hand. He smiled at Khadgar as he approached, but it wasn't unkind. There was a time for teasing, and that would be later—when the mage was falling on his behind for the umpteenth time.

"Have you chosen a weapon?" He called.

#

Khadgar looked up at Lothar with obvious nervousness in his eyes. He hadn't even been this anxious on exam days back in Dalaran.

"I, uh...don't really have experience with any of them, so I figured it's better if you pick," he pointed out. After all, it wasn't like it would make much of a difference; he'd probably be equally bad with any weapon in this room.  

He almost wanted to ask if Lothar had made Medivh take training in combat without spells, but he wasn't about to ruin the mood right before Lothar started picking up swords and such. 

#  


"Fair enough." Lothar unwrapped the scarf, then draped it around his own neck, over his padded leather jerkin. "When you've tried out a couple weapons, you'll get a feel for what's right for you. For now, we'll practice defense without a weapon. Now come on. Get up. Or you can practice fighting me off while sitting, that's fine by me."

He stepped back into the wide open area in front of the training dummies and spread his hands, waiting for Khadgar to join him. "We'll start by me attacking you, bare—handed. Try and defend yourself. I want to see what your instincts are without training."

  
#

Khadgar could feel his heart beating somewhere in his throat as he stood up and joined Lothar in the middle of the training room. He took a deep breath, even though he was fairly well panicking inside—he had no idea what he was doing.

_Just whatever you do, don't cast a counter spell. That would be defeating the point of the whole thing. Don't cast, don't cast—_

But the first time Lothar struck out, the thought choked silent in Khadgar's mind. " _S—Shindu'ala_!" he snapped, eyes flaring to life, and the arcane buffer smacked into Lothar and knocked him back a few feet.

Khadgar groaned and buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry..."

To be fair, his instincts were great there. Lothar hadn't hit him, after all. 

#

Lothar rolled his eyes. He would never have seen that one coming. 

No, really.

He drew in a deep breath, making sure his lungs were still functioning after Khadgar's blast. Then he unwrapped the silk scar from around his neck and stalked forward, proffering it to Khadgar. "All right, spell-chucker. I wanted to see if you had any self—control, and here's my answer."

He tilted his head and waited.

#  


Khadgar took a step back, looking between the scarf and Lothar with a look of both trepidation and disbelief.

"...you can't be serious," he finally said, feeling a little ill at the idea. Which was stupid—this was just training, after all, it was perfectly safe—but he could feel his mind already at war with the idea. 

He couldn't blame Lothar, really. He didn't know just how _much_ he asked.

"I'll be more careful, I swear, just..." he started, his tone a little desperate.

#

Lothar sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. When he met Khadgar's eyes again, his expression was serious.

"Do you trust me? Even a little." He shook his head slightly. "You've been in this situation before, and it hasn't been when you're in a training room facing a friend. Either you learn how to defend yourself now, or I...you're going to regret it later."

_I'm going to regret it later,_  he'd almost said. 

Having had Khadgar's very life depend on his diplomacy skills had shaken him more than he'd wanted to admit, to himself or anyone else.

#

Khadgar didn't feel like the 'Guardian of Azeroth' right now, that was for sure. He felt more like a student on his very first day of classes, which was...surprisingly accurate, actually.

He didn't want to essentially cut off the only actual weapon he had. When this happened before, it had always been unwillingly—he had nightmares about this kind of thing.

But when Lothar stood there and asked if he trusted him, he wasn't surprised that the answer was unequivocally, unmistakably, yes. That, and the burns around his wrists were a painful reminder that Lothar was right.

He swallowed hard and took the scarf from Lothar, obviously fighting his instincts the whole time as he tied it into place. 

#

"Good," Lothar said softly, and there was a softening around his eyes for a moment.

Then he stood back, gave Khadgar a breath to ready himself, and tackled him.

As far as a training hold went, it was loose, his arms wrapped around Khadgar's shoulders. A simple restraint.

"You'll want to bring your elbows up," he murmured into his ear. "Widen the area I have to hold. It will loosen your attacker's grip. Then either hit them with your head, or get your foot between their legs. Push out, try to throw them off balance. If none of that works, become dead weight."

#  


Khadgar wasn't expecting him to jump right in like that—granted, that was probably the idea, he didn't know what else he should have expected—and it took a few moments for him to focus on what Lothar was saying.

And a few moments for the blue glow in his eyes and around his hands to fade.

The first instruction was well enough, easy to follow, but he hesitated at the next—he wasn't supposed to actually try to hit him, was he? What if he accidentally hurt him? He could picture it now, him accidentally giving the regent of Stormwind a black eye or something with his clumsy flailing.

...he really was overthinking this, wasn't he? It was a whole lot easier practicing spell casting, where the tutors would use either dummies or put shields up that would negate he magic as it hit the living target. 

#  


Lothar bent his head against Khadgar's neck. "And you're dead," he pointed out.

He lifted the mage up and flipped him easily onto his back, putting a foot firmly on his stomach for emphasis. Not enough to hurt him, only enough to prove his point.

He reached a hand down, and reminiscent of an earlier time, pulled it back before the mage could grab it.

He danced backward, eyes twinkling. "Again. And hit me, spell—checker. You weren't afraid to when you had your magic, why is this any different?"

#

Khadgar grunted as he was thrown to the ground and pinned with one foot—strangely reminiscent of the last time he had lessons like this, really. Also slightly of when he first met Lothar and got pinned to the table with a _map compass_.

Somehow, he wasn't surprised when he ended up pushing himself off the ground. Again. 

He rolled his eyes at Lothar, because really, this was entirely different. He knew his magic, he had pinpoint control of it—usually—so of course he wasn't afraid to use it in the heat of the moment. This was very different.

Nonetheless, the next time Lothar came at him, he tried his best to dodge the warrior's move. 

#

"Good!" Lothar crowed, but swiftly grabbed Khadgar's wrist as he spun by him, turning him into his chest. "Now you'll want to turn your wrist outward, against my thumbs. Break my hold. Hit me with your knee, foot, or head. Anything to put distance between us." He helped Khadgar with the motions. "Now a jab—my nose, box my ears, go for the eyes." 

He didn't tell Khadgar that of course they were the moves of a beginner, taught to smaller children who didn't have the strength to truly fight. They would do in a pinch. He'd work with Khadgar later on the rest.

#

Perhaps the wrist wasn't the best place for Lothar to grab, as pain shot up through Khadgar's arm and made him gasp, eyes and hands flaring with the arcane before fading back to brown. 

Yeah, that hurt. 

It made it a little harder to focus on retaliating, but Khadgar did the best he could, trying to deliver a swift kick to Lothar's knee (because trying to move his wrist from that grip was not in the cards); and maybe he did a little better than he might have otherwise, given that the pain made him a whole lot more eager to break Lothar's hold on him more quickly.

#

"Ah!" Lothar hissed. It had to have been his bad leg. because Khadgar usually did hit the correct mark. He let go of Khadgar and shook out his leg, reflecting belatedly that he'd probably gripped the wrong spot for Khadgar as well.  

"That was good," he said through his teeth, then reached out and tugged down the scarf to Khadgar's chin so the mage could speak. "You forgot to break my grip. We'll practice." He gave Khadgar's chest a tap with the back of his hand. "You won't break me. Don't be so hesitant."

He looked at Khadgar's wrists, then back up to his face. "I'm sorry about your wrists. I forgot."

#

Khadgar gave Lothar a _look_. "Why are you apologizing? It's not like an Orc would be making sure to avoid injuries I already had. You can't really make them worse, anyway," he pointed out with a smirk, and not without a wave of relief at temporarily having his voice back. 

Though he did feel bad about somehow aiming for Lothar's bad leg—but he hadn't done it on purpose or anything. 

Neither of them had get noticed Taria having stepped into the room, a smile on her face as she watched the two of them. 

#  


Lothar winced. "I am no Orc. I should have been more careful." 

Giving Khadgar a pointed look, he pulled the silk covering up over his full mouth, then gave it a pat. "No more talking. Again. And this time don't hold back."

Lothar mimicked the actions he wanted him to take. "Turn your wrist, push against the thumb. Use your knee or heel. Put distance between you and your attacker. When you have a weapon, that's when you will attack. While they're still reeling."

This time, he tripped Khadgar quickly, and sat on top of him. 

It worried him how easy that had been. They'd have to work on that, too.

"Now," he said, grinning, "How will you get me off of you?"

He looked over Khadgar's face. He couldn't tell if he was panicking or strategizing; that was the trick with the mage. "Let me give you a hint. Buck up with your hips, rock to the side, throw me off. Use that hard head of yours and hit me if you have to."

He was completely oblivious they had an audience.

#

Khadgar glared at Lothar from where he lay pinned under him; if he weren't gagged, he would surely have said something about Lothar having a bit of an advantage here due to height and build.

He also would've quipped about how futile a hit to the head would be when Lothar's skull was just as thick, thank you very much.

He braced his feet and thrust upward, and at the same time he pushed sideways at Lothar with one elbow, throwing him off balance and managing to knock him over. 

Taria was busy trying not to laugh—it wasn't often she saw the two of them actually having fun. Not that Khadgar would ever admit this was _fun_.

#

Lothar went tumbling, surprised by Khadgar actually giving it a go. He let himself roll over on his back and chuckled, turning his face toward Khadgar's. He patted his arm. "There. Not so hard, was it? Now try to remember that if something large and ugly ever sits on you."

It was then he noticed his sister watching them, her eyes glittering with mirth. He glowered at her but didn't sit up. He may be more skilled at war than Khadgar, but he was also older, and he'd had a rough few days. 

"I came to see what you were going to do with my scarf," Taria called down. "It's good you're teaching him how to fight, Lothar."

#

"Oh, you mean like you?" Khadgar tugged down the scarf to say, but it was clear from his tone and the smirk on his face that he was joking.

After all, Lothar was far from ugly. Not that he'd ever say that out loud. 

He blushed when he realized that they actually had an audience for the 'sparring'—if you could even call it that. 

"He's more teaching me how to fall flat on the floor without breaking my bones doing it," he pointed out, climbing back to his feet. 

#

"It's an important skill to have," Lothar rejoined. "Considering how much falling you tend to do."

He grinned at Khadgar, then bent his knees and leapt to his feet. "We can't all be dainty bookworms," he responded to Khadgar's mock-insult. 

"Our mage keeps having to go without his magic," he called up to his sister. "I thought it would be a good idea to train him to use his fists."

Taria laughed. "It seems you are making progress. Or are you just getting old, that he could knock you off so easily?"

"I let him," Lothar blustered, not actually sure if it was the truth or not. It didn't matter though; all three of them knew they were just playing with their words at that point.

#

"Dainty bookworm?" Khadgar repeated, raising an eyebrow. He'd never thought of himself as 'dainty', that was for sure.

There was one thing that Khadgar could reliably do without his magic—something they all seemed to learn early on to cut off enemy spellcasters mid-cast. And the fact that Lothar had all of his attention on Taria, plus the fact that he was saying he'd _let_ Khadgar throw him off—gave perfect opportunity. 

He swung out one leg, caught Lothar by the ankles, and soon the warrior was flat on his back on the ground. Khadgar raised an eyebrow. "Did you _let me_ do that, too?" he asked with a grin.

Taria laughed so loud the guards peeked in to see what was so funny. 

#  


_I'll be damned,_  Lothar thought gleefully. This was the first time the mage was relaxed enough with him to really retaliate against his teasing.

He took it as a good sign. He had been trying since the day he'd met him to make Khadgar gain a little more confidence. 

Outwardly though Lothar groaned, and curled up in a fetal position, hand in the small of his back.

"You could really hurt someone if you don't know how to flip them properly," he accused. "Most of my bones were recently broken, you know."

He waited patiently for Khadgar to buy it, hook, line, and sinker.

Taria, bless her, didn't clue the mage in to his act.

#  


Khadgar's confidence instantly dissolved into concern. Of course—how could he be so stupid? That Dwarven healer hadn't healed him properly in the first place, and their own healer had barely had time to take a look at him—he could have actually hurt him.

He immediately moved to kneel next to Lothar, a frown on his face. "Light, I'm sorry—are you alright?" 

He hesitated to actually touch Lothar, in case he made his mess up even worse. 

#

Quick as a blink, Lothar grabbed Khadgar by one ankle and tugged his leg out from under him. The mage went sprawling.

Lothar guffawed. 

"Never trust crocolisk tears," he said through his laughter. "And don't trust appearances. Letting your guard down for an instant could cost you your life."

At the edge of the ring, Taria was laughing again, too, her hand over her mouth. 

Lothar's smile softened as he glanced at her. He wasn't the only one who had suffered losses; it was good to see her in good spirits again after Llane's death.

He turned his face back toward Khadgar, humor still crinkling the edges of his eyes. "I think I'm offended you think rolling me over could hurt me."

#

Khadgar certainly hadn't been expecting to be yanked to the floor, and he didn't hesitate to glare at Lothar and give him a firm smack on the shoulder.

"You know that healer didn't heal you properly, you giant idiot," he said, though the frustration in his tone was equal to the fond amusement. He couldn't stay mad at Lothar, much like Taria said that Lothar couldn't stay mad at him.

He wondered how much truth there was to that.

"As amusing as this all is, I do have good news," Taria said. "Thanks to the advance warning, our troops were able to hold off the Orcs at Sentinel Hill. They're requesting reinforcements, since there were casualties, and they're expecting another attack."

#  


Lothar sat up, sobering. "Then I'll go to them with more troops," he said. "We can't afford to let the Orcs gain another foothold, especially not one so strategic."

He wondered at the blessing that was his sister. She truly was a Queen. He was still wearing his new role as regent awkwardly, having to remember he was expected to plan, not just fight where he was needed. 

Llane had always trusted his advice, but where it went wrong, he had been there to correct it. He wasn't certain he could make the right calls by himself without that balance.

He got to his feet and helped Khadgar up. "It's not enough. But maybe it will help, yes?" He tapped Khadgar's shoulder with his hand in a friendly gesture.

"You should let your troops handle it, Anduin," Taria said, gaining his attention by the use of his first name. She rarely used it since she had assumed her position, and that was years now.

He missed hearing it, honestly. 

"I won't abandon them to the Orcs," he countered. "Most of them don't know what they're up against. I can protect them."

"Stormwind needs a king," she responded. 

"It has a queen," he pointed out. "I'll be able to lead them. It will help them, knowing that their regent fights with them."

"And when you fall down, exhausted, on the battlefield? What then? You've been fighting incessantly." Taria frowned.

#

Khadgar gave Lothar a firm look. "They last time you slept was when you were unconscious with multiple broken bones," he pointed out, earning a smile from Taria for the support. 

But really, she was right. They'd both been pushing themselves too hard lately—even now, Khadgar could feel weariness settling in like a blanket over his mind.

But he was afraid to sleep. Afraid of what nightmares might come along with it.

Afraid he might lash out again. 

"Go ahead and send reinforcements. The Orcs will need time to recover from the blow we dealt them; it won't do any harm if you follow a couple of days after. If they held the line once, they know how to handle themselves until you get there," he said, hoping that would put Lothar's mind at ease. "Besides, you should remain here for at _least_ a day or two, in case the Dark Irons send word, or the Orcs from the north retaliate."

#

Lothar held Khadgar's gaze. Finally he gave in, nodding to Taria. "Very well. I have no hope of winning this if you're both against me."

But that wasn't true, he realized. It was very much the opposite. 

He turned back to Khadgar, some of his confusion showing through his expression. 

That was not just the worry of a Guardian for a king, no matter how much he tried to convince himself of that. Somehow, Khadgar had begun working with his sister to look out for him on a very personal level.

His recalcitrance from fully accepting that Khadgar was making a place for himself in his life came from more than just his own one-sided attraction; it was also that it felt so much like disloyalty, to fill the space left by Llane so quickly.

But had Llane been alive, he would have wanted Lothar to have someone to lean on. It was clear in how he kept pushing the two of them to work together before his death. He couldn't keep himself so aloof indefinitely, certainly not when it was so glaringly obvious he needed the mage's sound advice, both in battle and out of it.

Lothar's mouth gave a strange little twist. 

#

Khadgar found himself pinned by a very intense, inscrutable look from Lothar, and his breath caught in his throat.

_Did you give away too much? No, he doesn't know— **can't** know—_

He was just concerned for him. Friends were concerned for each other all the time; surely it wouldn't leave Lothar suspicious of anything. Because—

Light. If Lothar figured out that Khadgar felt something more for him than a Guardian to his king, he might as well say goodbye to any friendship he'd once had with him. Lothar may never let him live it down, or...or he might hate him.

He wasn't sure which would be worse.

"Right. Well, like I said, um...sleep. We both need it," he said, trying not to let his uncertainty, his nervousness show through in his words. "I'll be...in my quarters. If I'm needed."

Which was a lie, partly. He gave them both a smile and the informal half-bow that he usually did—then promptly turned and hit his leg on the shield rack in his attempt to hastily evacuate the room and the emotions that went along with it.

Yes, he was definitely going to the library; between nightmares and unwanted, confusing emotions, he needed to drown his sorrows in books. 

#  


"Lothar," Taria said reproachfully after Khadgar had left.

"What did I do?" Lothar asked plaintively.

She just shook her head. "Perhaps you should try not...try not to be you." She sighed. "The poor boy doesn't know where to turn with you, you have to know that."

Lothar, utterly bemused, could only shake his head. "I'm listening to you both. That should make him and you happy. Why is this my fault? He's touchy."

Taria smiled enigmatically at him. "Go rest, brother mine."

Lothar shook his head, but followed her advice, going to his quarters and falling gratefully into his soft bed. 

#

Khadgar stayed up late in the library, until he quite literally couldn't keep his eyes open any longer—in fact, until he fell asleep with his head on the table, and his guard awoke him and told him to 'go get some proper sleep in an actual bed, for Light's sake'.

Once there, he managed to sleep without nightmares for once, probably due to the flat out exhaustion. It was odd, waking up in an actual bed with no crisis at hand—almost odd enough that he wasn't sure what to do.

Oh yeah, breakfast. Like normal people did in the mornings.

Unlike normal people, though, he took his to the library and ate while looking over books and maps, and sketches of demonic symbols he remembered the demon showing him, trying to guess what Gul'dan would do next.

He was so used to his guard being so insistent on his welfare that when he heard footsteps, he automatically assumed that was who it was. "Yes, Dion, I ate breakfast," he said without turning to look. "Stop worrying so much, I won't starve."

#

Lothar found Khadgar exactly where he though he would, buried up to his nose in books in the library. 

"Ah, on a first name basis with the guard I sent to watch you, are we?" Lothar said, the look on his face bordering on fond. "First you try to steal the loyalty of my gryphon, and now my soldiers. You're a dangerous man to keep around, bookworm."

Though he teased, it did rankle a little bit, he realized, that Khadgar would be calling everyone else other than him by their given names. What was it about him that made Khadgar so standoffish? Usually people could recognize that Lothar only really joked with his friends. 

He approached the table and picked up the book Khadgar was reading, dragging a thumbnail musingly over its spine before handing it back to him. "The troops have been deployed. I agree we should wait to hear from the Dark Irons, especially if they choose to send an emissary or diplomat instead of a courier."

Lothar picked up another book off a nearby stack, flipping through it casually but not really registering the words. He glanced around the library, not really looking at Khadgar. They were the only ones present.

"I'm not sure I've said anything aloud to make you think this. But I think I've been comparing you to so many others in my head. Callan, in some ways." He drew in a breath, and his voice was soft when he continued. "Llane in others. And Medivh, of course Medivh. The three of us were childhood friends, Khadgar. I'm not sure if I told you that." He shut the book, a cloud of dust billowing up from it. He tossed it back on the pile, where it wobbled precariously. "I don't like to talk about my losses, because there have been so very many. There are spaces left, and I'm sorry if I made you think you haven't been enough. You are more of a Guardian already than Medivh was. And I count you as a friend. Not a replacement." 

Lothar pushed at the pile of books, because that's just who he was. He watched, half-fascinated, as they maintained their precarious balance. 

"Taria told me I should try not to be myself," he said, by way of excuse for his uncomfortable (for him, anyway) heart-to-heart. "So I am trying. This doesn't...come easily. This sort of thing."

He still couldn't bring himself to meet Khadgar's eyes. He clapped his hands against his leather pants. "Well. That's that." He made to leave the room. 

#

Khadgar was about to make a quip about how he owed the guard at least some amount of familiarity, ever since he almost blasted the man through a wall on accident, but then Lothar was off and talking again—more than Khadgar had ever heard him speak at once, he was pretty sure. 

And what he said left Khadgar a bit shocked and a lot taken aback, all at once.

"Wait," he said when Lothar turned to leave, reaching out and catching him by the arm, keeping him from just fleeing after _that_. But now he had so much to say, and most of it he was afraid to say at all.

"I...I don't feel that you treat me as a replacement. I never did," he said, and then he laughed, barely. "I...treat myself more as a replacement, in some ways, and not in others. It's hard, having so much to live up to, and yet having the fel hanging over it all. I feel like...everyone is expecting me to fall to it. But not you. You've..."

He paused, looking away for a few moments. Did he really want to say this? It seemed that every time he started to open up to Lothar, he got cut off by teasing and sarcasm—but that was who Lothar was, it seemed. He shouldn't expect any less. 

But still...it needed to be said. 

"You've been the only one to actually take me seriously from the start. You're the one who first believed me about the fel, the one who took me at my word when I expressed my concerns about Medivh, even though you've known him so long. And you didn't _have_ to. For all you knew, I was some drop out of the Kirin Tor. A fugitive, no less," he said, one hand moving without thought to rub at his sleeve where the symbol of the Kirin Tor lay underneath the cloth. "You had faith in me when no one else did. And that's not an exaggeration. I asked a lot of you, and you were _there_."

He met Lothar's eyes, hesitantly, bracing himself for the inevitable teasing. "I don't think I ever thanked you for that. So...thank you. Really."

#

Lothar leaned closer to Khadgar, almost subconsciously. He met his eyes, trying to convey his sincerity. "I will always have faith in you," he murmured, not more than a hand span from Khadgar's face.

He backed off, feeling that confusing and inappropriate surge of attraction wash over him, afraid of ruining the progress he'd made making some sort of actual friend out of the mage.

"All that said," he cleared his throat.  "My friends called me Anduin. It would be nice to hear my name on someone's lips. Even Taria calls me Lothar more often than not, these days."

#

Khadgar felt the urge to close that distance, the urge to just forget about all his own uncertainties for _one damn second_ —but he couldn't. He knew what would happen, and he couldn't risk it.

He'd rather pine and have Lothar as just a friend for the rest of his days than lose him to one stupid, impulsive decision. 

He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until Lothar pulled away from him, and he learned how to breathe all over again. It took a moment for him to grasp Lothar's—no, Anduin's—words, and he nodded.

"Right. Anduin. I can do that," he said, trying out the name on his tongue. 

It felt...better. It felt right.

"Afraid you only get a first name with me. Our last names are, well...erased, once we're given over to the Kirin Tor. I've never known mine," he said with a nervous chuckle, breaking the strange tension of the moment. 

#

Anduin's eyes were half-lidded as he listened to Khadgar's explanation, gaze flickering just for a moment to his lips. Briefly, he had almost thought...

But no. The mage seemed inexperienced. It would be natural for him to be curious, if he had picked up on Anduin's interest, even a little. Even if he _were_  interested in Anduin like that, there was more than just the usual risks with trying to find out. Stormwind could lose its Guardian because of one bad decision. His personal peace was not worth it. 

"The more I hear about their practices, the more barbaric they seem," Anduin settled for muttering. 

Just then, the stack of books lost its battle with gravity, spilling across the floor and creating an unfortunate domino effect with another nearby pile. Pages went fluttering like so many butterflies in the air. 

Anduin watched Khadgar through the debris, while he could. His boyish face seemed so earnest, and Anduin wished desperately to run a thumb over his barely—whiskered cheek, but as it was, he forced out a raucous laugh to break the quiet but not unpleasant tension.

#

Khadgar groaned and rolled his eyes; he was used to library mishaps like this. Especially after working extensively in a 'haunted' library.

He dropped down and started carefully gathering up the books. "They figured that our families were unimportant at that point, given that we no longer belonged to them," he explained with a shrug. He wondered for a moment what Anduin must think of his parents, seeing as how he couldn't see the man passing off Callan to the Kirin Tor in the name of family honor.

Khadgar had long ago ceased to care. He used to be curious, but it was hard to find room in your heart and mind for people who essentially gave you away. 

"Anyway, I'm trying to research any other demonic symbols the Orcs might attempt to use, but I'm not sure some of these symbols even _exist_ in Azeroth's records, anywhere."

#  


Anduin took pity on him and bent to help, feeling a moment of rare altruism considering he'd probably caused the stacks to fall with his prodding. He gathered up papers, trying to keep them grouped as best he could but really, he had no idea what he was doing. At least he tried to make the stacks neat. Khadgar had to appreciate that.

"Since the Orcs aren't from this world, how would you be able to find anything?" He wondered out loud.

The amount of knowledge that Khadgar already had, coupled with his appetite to learn even more, had Anduin in awe. He had picked up a book or two in his time despite his teasing, but he preferred action. His friends had always been the strategists and the lore—seekers, and that suited him just fine. He had always been better with instinct and common sense than they were.

In some ways, he reflected dourly, perhaps that was why he had survived.

The pages that looked completely out of place he thrust at Khadgar, feeling like he was bumbling around and making things worse.

#

Khadgar took the pages with a grateful smile. "Well, it's not as if the fel is unprecedented on Azeroth. Its influence has been felt here before, a long time ago. As in, thousands of years. But it wasn't enough to infect the way it has now," he explained, standing back up and grabbing the book he'd been working with.

He turned it to a page of ancient sketches and showed Anduin. "That series of symbols is an ancient Thalassian reference to an evil, green magic that tears away life. Unfortunately, most of what I've found is just that vague, so..."

He paused, swallowing hard. "I'm trying to make sense of what...that _demon_ showed me when he was inside my head. But it's all so jumbled, and I've got nothing else to work with...part of me wishes I could get my hands on some Orc texts and learn their language as quickly as possible. It's so ingrained in their culture, they have to have some knowledge base on it."

That was, of course, assuming that Gul'dan wasn't the only one using fel magic—and if he was, assuming that he wrote anything down about it at all. 

#  


"It's too bad that Garona betrayed us," Anduin said bitterly. "A translator like her would have been handy."

_Yes, because she was useful, that's certainly the reason you wanted to keep her around,_ he mocked himself.

The pain from the personal betrayal was fading though, he found. What he'd felt for her was a definite attraction, and the fascination with her _otherness_ was compelling. He had seen a kindred spirit, another warrior, someone who had also suffered but was determined to make the most of it.

And that she had, in the worst way possible.

Despite that though, looking at Khadgar and only feeling a selfless warmth, he realized that her loss wasn't what he had thought it had been. Not to him personally at least.

"I wonder if we can ask the Dark Irons for help finding you some texts, if they agree to help us drive the Orcs out of the Burning Steps."

#

Khadgar felt his stomach twist and looked away. He'd forgotten how close Anduin had been to Garona; it only reminded him of how folly his own little crush was.

Garona had been wrong; he definitely had no interest in lying with her, but not for the reasons she might have guessed, seeing as how she had strange opinions on 'mating' anyway.

He smirked, though, and raised an eyebrow at Anduin. "We'd probably have more luck if _you_ ask and say it's for your scholars here. I doubt they're too eager to do anything that will benefit me," he pointed out, rubbing one of his sore wrists absent-mindedly. Those dwarves had _really_ not been fond of him. 

#

Anduin's lips twisted into a frown at the reminder of what Khadgar had suffered, but turned it into an answering smirk. "On second thought, perhaps we should see if Taria would ask them. You're right, it's doubtful they have goodwill toward either of us."

"My ears are burning," a clear voice chimed in.

Anduin turned to find Taria in the doorway, smiling at them both. His face felt like it was blushing, as if he'd been doing something wrong just simply talking to Khadgar in the library.

"If it has to do with diplomacy, Lothar, you are right to leave it up to me."

Anduin sketched a bow. "See? I have some good sense."

"Occasionally." Her smile grew wider as her gaze passed to Khadgar and then back to him. "I've come to see if you would both lunch with me. The castle is quiet with so many away."

  
#

Khadgar seemed torn for a moment; he had so much to do here, but at the same time, he couldn't turn down Taria. Not after she'd been so kind to him all along.

"I suppose I could use a break," he said, though he sounded reluctant. All the same, he set down his book and papers; anyone would be an idiot not to make time for their queen and friend. 

"Though I suppose the castle being quiet is preferable to the resident mage accidentally blowing holes in the wall," he added with a bashful shrug. 

#  


Taria laughed. "We enjoy your presence here, Khadgar, in whatever form that takes." She took a sweeping look of the room. "Please join me when you're ready. There doesn't have to be any rush."

She nodded at them and took her leave.

Anduin ran a hand through his wavy hair, irritated at her use of the word "we". Nevermind that it was true—he just didn't like to think that she thought she knew him so well that she could speak for him.

"Your papery friends will still be here in an hour, bookworm," Anduin suggested, taking in Khadgar's obvious disappointment. "In fact, if I can help you—it might surprise you, but I do know how to read. If you tell me what to look for perhaps we can make more progress together."

If any were in his own language, of course.

#

Khadgar looked between the stack of books and Lothar in obvious surprise. He figured that Lothar would find that kind of thing unbearably boring. "I suppose there's a few in Common, and some scrolls that are just diagrams," he said, lost in thought for a moment before he looked back up at Lothar.

"Do you only speak Common?" he asked, his tone not condescending, but rather curious. "Most of these are in ancient Thalassian, and an old Titan dialect, and I doubt you speak any Demonic, of course...and not Dwarven...but there's a few in Darnassian, Gilnean, Taurahe, Zandali..."

If there was one thing Khadgar excelled at, it was being a quick study—and languages were something that came easily to him, unlike hand to hand combat. 

#  


"Gilnean, I can speak," Anduin scrunched up his nose. "It's more of  a dialect. Languages never were a skill I've had the chance to pick up. I know some Dwarvish, but not enough to hold a conversation or help you."

He found his face heating up for the second time in so many minutes. Ah, yes. How could he ever have thought that he had the right to be interested in Khadgar as more than a friend and ally? He might be the Lion of Azeroth, but he was a complete idiot if you were to compare him to the Guardian himself. Trained by the Kirin Tor, with incomparable knowledge of the arcane, and a mind that had most of the lore of Azeroth contained within it.

He felt, somehow, that Khadgar was mocking him for being so ignorant. Perhaps not consciously, but how could he respect someone like Anduin, who had the knowledge of a child if compared to him?

It made him want to strike out at something, so his tone turned flippant again. "Of course, I know one song..." He launched into the bawdiest tavern ballad the Wiildhammers had taught him, something to do with livestock and women's underclothes, and a poor pot-boy.

#

Khadgar flushed red as Lothar suddenly burst out into a song that was more fitting for a pub than a library, and he picked up a book and smacked Lothar on the arm with it—though he was fighting a smile as he did.

"Come on, you," he said, fighting down the blush on his cheeks. "Your sister is going to send the guards after us if we take too long, and we already put them through enough."

He set the book on the table and took one step toward the door before it felt like someone punched him in the gut. The air knocked out of him, he stumbled and dropped to his hands and knees with a ragged gasp, more caught off guard than anything.

He'd somehow retained part of that connection to the fel network Gul'dan had partially created, and now he could feel it _tearing_ , opening up at the nexus, at the Dark Portal—only a little, but—

He could tell it was the start of something _bad_. 

#  


Anduin mock-flinched as Khadgar hit him with a heavy tome. He cheerfully acknowledged to himself that he'd earned it, and tried to remember the second round. Since it had gotten such a good reaction out of the serious mage he thought he should press his luck.

Just as he turned to fall in step with him, Khadgar suddenly doubled over as if he'd been hit. Anduin dropped into a crouch beside him, wary and alert. He saw nothing in the library out of the ordinary, but he knew there were sometimes threats that could not be seen.

"Khadgar! Khadgar, look at me. What happened?" He placed a steadying hand on his arm, attempting to help him up.

He had a horrible feeling that this meant something bad.

_Could the fel still be in Khadgar? Was it Medivh, all over again?_ His throat turned to ice.

_Had that thing in the tower been right all along?_ Was he going to be tasked with killing...?

"Come on. Look at me." His voice was quiet but urgent, the way it usually was when he was truly afraid.

#

Khadgar tried to take in slow breaths as the feeling slowly subsided, leaving him feeling off-balance and a bit overheated. He nodded, trying to find his voice.

"I...I'm alright," he managed, looking up at Anduin, his eyes showing no sign of the fel or otherwise. "I wasn't expecting that."

That was an understatement. He'd had to tap into that fel connection in order to sabotage the rune location with arcane, but he didn't expect to maintain any of that connection. 

He wondered if Gul'dan knew, if he _could_ know. 

"Somehow...I'm still tapped into the fel network Gul'dan was attempting to build. He's...he's started _something_ , but...it was too quick to tell. I couldn't..."

#

"Tapped in?" Anduin grimaced. "How is that possible? Will it take you over, like Medivh?" His frown deepened. "Can I even trust you to tell me if you're still connected to that..."

His fingers tightened on Khadgar's shirt. The other man's eyes were clear, but so Medivh's had been as well, up until the end.

His heart was pounding in his chest. Somehow he could face down an army of Orcs, but this, this threat to Khadgar, this potential of relieving his worst nightmares as yet another friend fell...

"And what did he start? Tell me."

#

Khadgar flinched with hurt that he couldn't manage to hide at Anduin's words, and his breath caught in his throat. Was that really Anduin's first thought? That he'd succumbed to the fel, or was going to, just that quick?

He'd been flooded by fel and harassed by one of its demons, and he hadn't fallen then. He'd even shielded Anduin through the worst of it. He would have hoped...well, that Anduin would have more faith in him than that.

Was he so ready to follow through on that spirit's words? So ready to give up on him at the first sign of faltering?

"It can't 'take me over' through this kind of connection, so you can stay your sword for now," he said, not without an edge of bitterness to his tone as he pulled free of Anduin's grip and struggled to his feet. "But if you'd prefer, your friends in the north mountains have an excellent means of locking me down."

He took in a deep breath. "I don't know what he started. I only got a...a feeling. I don't know if I can utilize this and tap back into it without Gul'dan knowing that I'm aware."

#

Anduin reached out again and shook Khadgar's shoulder. "You told me you are tapped into the fel. What am I supposed to think that means? How would I know that's not how it works?"

He took a deep breath. "You're going to have to explain this to me, Khadgar. How is it possible to tap into the fel without it being part of you?"

Stung by Khadgar's biting biting words, he dropped his hand, eyes still intense on the mage's face. 

  
#

Khadgar thought for a moment, obviously trying to figure out a way to phrase this easily. "When I sabotaged their rune network, I didn't have to allow it into myself to do it," he explained. "I had to overpower it."

He ran his fingers through his hair, a frown lining his youthful features. "I connected to the network he'd built, but I left it blocked from my own arcane energy. I thought that the connection would automatically sever when I destroyed the rune, but it seems that I'll be able to feel changes to the connection until _all_ the runes are destroyed."

He gave Anduin a weak smile. "It's not necessarily a bad thing. It means we have an advantage I don't think Gul'dan knows about. I...don't know how intense it can be, or how long until Gul'dan figures it out, but the block is still up. The only thing affecting me is how my own magic is reacting to changes in the network."

#

"And if that block fails?" Anduin narrowed his eyes. "Will you be threatened by the fel then? Can someone else force it into you through this connection?"

His understanding of the arcane was too limited for him to fully understand what Khadgar was saying to him. It sounded like it would be advantageous, but only as long as it posed no threat to Khadgar. 

He might have faith in the other man, but he had no faith in the fel. He'd seen it destroy too much of what he loved already.

Anduin forced himself to calm down. "And you feel it now because Gul'dan is doing something to it. Do you know where?"

#  


"If that block fails, then I'll be of little use to the fel, as I'll probably be near death anyway," Khadgar pointed out. It was a simple spell, one that didn't even require conscious thought to keep in place—as evidenced by the fact that he didn't even know it was still up until something tampered with the connection. "The worst it can do is likely a mild case of mana poisoning."

Which was...not pleasant, but it would take a severe case of mana poisoning to be deadly—such as the kind caused by wearing those iron bindings for too long.

"All I could tell is that he's torn the network open, likely to use for some other major spell. He's trying to salvage his efforts so it's not a complete failure," he said softly. "And he's doing it at the Dark Portal. It felt...complex, so I'm sure this isn't nearly the last time this will happen. It's not the kind of spell he can finish in days, or even weeks. I could technically tap into the connection myself and try to figure it out, but that may tip Gul'dan off early to the fact that I'm still connected to it."

#

Anduin shook his head. "No. It will do us no good knowing what he's up to if it puts you at risk. Not when we have no hope of confronting him at the portal, not yet, not with the forces we have."

Khadgar's words did nothing to help him relax. If the connection he held wasn't dangerous, the thought that Gul'dan might be able to sense the mage through it overwrote that. 

However, they had no other way of keeping an eye on Gul'dan on the Orcs, and like it or not, he couldn't give that up. 

"We need to strengthen our allies," he said. "We need more forces. If Gul'dan is focusing his energies at the gate, we need to draw his attention elsewhere."

#  


Khadgar shook his head. "Gul'dan doesn't lead like you do, Anduin," he said, his voice eager and certain. "He doesn't feel the need to be by his soldiers' side unless he feels it will advance himself. He's selfish; that much is obvious from what I've heard and seen."

He paused, thinking as he glanced at all the materials on the table. "The only thing that would draw his attention from his work is someone he knows would be worth his time to bring down. Someone who is a direct threat to himself and his plans. He would divert his attention to deal a blow like that personally."

He met Anduin's gaze again, looking a bit wary this time—because he wasn't sure how he would react to this. "You and I are the only threats big enough to draw his attention and delay him. And I have a _direct line_ to him, right now. I may be able to use this _against_ him, not just as surveillance."

#  


"How? That's suicide," Anduin spat. "You draw his attention to you and then what? He's distracted for a moment, that's all. We can't defeat him or his forces on our own." He couldn't believe he even had to say that. 

He thought, frowning. "But you may be right. He killed the Frostwolves. He doesn't care about life. Not even his own people's." He bit his thumbnail. "But if I'm the one who distracts him. Could you use your connection to the fel to destroy the...the network if I bought you enough time? The question is: How? What could I do?"

Taria was really, really not going to like this plan.

On the other hand, she didn't need to know. Omission was a sound strategy in his childhood, and it had served him well in his adult life when it came to his sister. 

#

Khadgar's shoulders slumped a little. "I...don't know if I could," he said, obviously reluctant to admit it. "Gul'dan has all his power entwined in that network, and it's only going to be building strength over the coming days and weeks. I won't put your life on the line without knowing I can disable that network. I just...don't know enough yet."

It made him remember the moment when Alodi was asking him to stand against the Guardian; he'd been sure, then, that he couldn't do it. And he still hadn't been sure, even all the way through the last moments of the fight. 

"I would have to take down that block in my magic to try it. And even then, I would be up against the combined strength of Gul'dan and the power of whatever spell he's attempting. You..."

He trailed off, and then he laughed dryly. "It may be possible, but you may well have to run me through when it's over, either due to fel corruption or to just...put me out of my misery. I doubt I'd survive it."

And that was a lot to admit, coming from him. He didn't like to admit when he was completely outmatched; Anduin had to know that.

#

"Then we don't have a plan, do we?" Anduin said with a pointed look at Khadgar. "i can't take on Gul'dan. Not with his powers. If you don't think you can do it yet...I'm not risking you to the fel." He didn't even bother correcting himself to say _'You're important to Azeroth'_  or ' _Stormwind needs you.'_ "And I'm not running you through, Khadgar." Another thing that shouldn't need to be said.

His eyes roved Khadgar's face pensively. "Would the Kirin Tor help?" He worried his bottom lip with his teeth. He knew the answer to that question. "No, of course not. Could you learn enough about it to be strong enough to fight it, if you gave yourself some time? We can't wait too long or whatever Gul'dan has planned will manifest, and that's not an option either."

Anduin slapped the wall in frustration. "What if I weaken him?" He asked suddenly. "If I go into the camp and attack him head on. Would that distraction be enough for you to gain the upper hand?"

#

Khadgar have Anduin a look. "Did you not see the bodies left behind that were drained by the fel? Anduin, he wouldn't even have to touch you to wring your spirit dry," he pointed out. "I at least have some kind of protection against it. You saw Moroes in the tower; that's what would have become of you without a shield when I expelled the fel from the font. The fel is not something you can go up against headfirst."

He wasn't exaggerating, either. He would rather take on a dozen of those demons than let Gul'dan get close enough to harm Anduin. He would kill Gul'dan himself, whether or not he thought he could survive it, if that Orc touched his king. His friend. 

"Give me a couple of days to do research. Maybe I'll feel more of the changes he makes by then," he offered. "Once we know more, we can make a decision."

They were interrupted by a guard stepping into the room and clearing his throat. "Dinner is ready, regent," he said, giving them a curious look. Taria was probably wondering where they were by now. 

#  


Anduin nodded to the guard, his eyes still on Khadgar. "Thank you. Please tell her we're on our way."

The guard saluted and left. 

"All right," Anduin said to Khadgar. "But you let me help." The mage had never waited before on something he was sure of, so Anduin didn't know what else to say, other than pray he would wait for him instead of running toward his death. 

Taria was embroidering when they joined her in the hall. She gave them both a shrewd look. "You could have sent a guard to tell me you weren't able to come," she reproached Anduin specifically.

"We..." Anduin cleared his throat. "Sorry." 

"Get up to anything fun?" She asked innocently. 

Anduin was going to find that guard, and have Khadgar turn him into a sheep. He had told her something, obviously; he just wasn't sure what.

#  


As per usual, the innuendo (innocent or otherwise) went right over Khadgar's head. "He was offering to help with my work, actually," he said with a smirk thrown Anduin's way—it wasn't a lie, after all, but Anduin would likely never live it down. 

And Khadgar would definitely hold him to it, given the opportunity.

The chef, looking a little irritated, brought in their meals as they sat down, and Khadgar was a little taken aback. It wasn't like he'd joined them for meals before—he was used to grabbing a bite here and there between studying, not full meals like this.

He was tempted to ask if the plates were meant to be shared, but he has the feeling the answer was 'no'.

#

"That was kind of him," Taria said. "Are you finding anything interesting?"

Her tone was slightly too incurious for Anduin to believe she didn't at least suspect them of something. 

Deflecting, he said, "I'm too dimwitted to help him since I don't know five languages and Orcish." He threw a grin Khadgar's way. "But it's not a total loss, since I taught him a Dwarven drinking song." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "He's lived a very sheltered life."

He buttered a roll. Khadgar seemed bewildered by something, so he tossed it at him in hopes of making him relax. He grabbed another and dipped it in his soup.

"Oh!" Taria said, heroically not rolling her eyes at her brother and turning to Khadgar. "But I do know languages. Do you need help? Which do you need translated?"

  
#  


Khadgar barely managed to catch the roll to keep it from hitting him in the face, and he shot Anduin an exasperated look. He would have shot back that he wasn't sheltered, but...

Well, he was, really. At least when it came to much of Anduin's lifestyle.

"Mostly ancient Thalassian and some Titan dialects," he told her, starting to pick at his food a bit. "But there's some Demonic, Dwarven, Taurahe, Zandali, and Gilnean as well. I'm familiar with most of them, but the age of the texts is slowing me down considerably."

He flinched for a moment as the connection sprang to life, just for an instant; but he managed to recover, hopefully quickly enough that she didn't notice.

  
#

"I cannot help you with the Titanic, Demonic or Zandali," Taria said slowly, "But I may be able to help with the rest, if you'll let me." She smiled. "I've often found myself with time on my hands here in the castle. Or at least I did, once. The library was a refuge for me, and I was spoiled by our tutors." 

Anduin gave her a gentle look. She had taken over many of the duties once performed by Llane, duties he should by rights be performing but that she was more skilled at, or simply more willing. 

Taria smiled back at him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Khadgar flinch. He tilted his head at him, but didn't say anything. If he brought that up, they really would be committing to telling Taria, and she'd definitely be telling them both to forget it. 

Taria, of course, noticed anyway. "Is the food not to your liking, Khadgar?"

#

"No, no, it's fine. I just...have a headache. Probably from staring at books all day," Khadgar said with a nervous, weak smile thrown in Anduin's direction. It was obvious Anduin didn't want her to know—probably because she would worry—and for now, he was willing to go along with it.

He worried about during the night, though; if he had one of those episodes in his sleep, he might lash out. He really should devote the rest of the day to finding a way to keep that from happening; there had to be a dampening spell or something. 

On the other hand, if he spent a lot of time with Taria, she would probably ask him if he'd told Anduin the whole truth about those binding cuffs and what the could do. Which he hadn't, of course.

"I think I've got things covered for tonight, though. The books I'm working with aren't anything that would benefit from having a hand with," he pointed out, looking back down at his food. If he could get the sleep issue worked out, he'd feel a lot better.

#

Taria sent a stern look Anduin's way, as if it were his fault that Khadgar was acting shifty. He gave her a shrug. She shook her head at him.

"He said he has a couple days' worth of research," Anduin relented in an attempt to put her mind at ease. If she had a timeline, she wouldn't be worrying at him incessantly. 

"Ah," she smiled, relaxing. "I'm glad the castle library has proved useful."

"Why do you always have to be so diplomatic?" Anduin griped at her finally.

"Why do you have to be so difficult?" She responded sweetly. She threw a subtle look in Khadgar's direction while the mage still had his head down. 

"Damned nosy guards," Anduin said.

"Don't blame the guards," Taria had laughter in her voice. "I am the Queen, you know. They have to do what I say."

"And that includes telling you about a private conversation between the regent and the Guardian?"

"He didn't say anything. I just know when you're keeping something from me." Taria was smiling now, but there was a hint of worry in her expression. "What is it, Lothar? What has happened?"

"Nothing yet," he sighed, giving in. "Please, Taria. Let's not talk about this now."

"Khadgar," she said. "Please tell me if my brother decides to do anything rash."

Anduin choked on his soup trying not to laugh. Like he was the one who ever started things when it came to the mage.

#

Khadgar rolled his eyes. "I'll tell you, though whether it will do any good is another story, given how stubborn he is," he pointed out, mostly teasing.

But Anduin _was_ quite stubborn.

Khadgar managed a few more bites of his food, but he was distracted, to say the least. Worry clawed at him, both worry about little things like how he would manage to sleep tonight, to worry about what Gul'dan might be planning. He had the feeling going back to the library in this state might be a bit futile.

Last time he took a short break, he figured out the answer. Maybe this time could be the same. 

"I think I'll go for a short walk, actually. I...need some fresh air," he said, standing up and giving them both an apologetic look. He couldn't make his mind stop racing; some time outdoors seemed like it might once again do the trick.

#

Anduin sobered, watching Khadgar as he left. 

"Something _has_  happened, hasn't it?" Taria asked quietly.

Anduin closed his eyes, briefly. "Somehow he can feel the fel. No, don't look like that, it's what I thought too. But he swears that it's just a...an awareness. It's not in him."

"Yes, but Medivh..." she breathed.

"Yes, but Medivh," he agreed. He put his face in his hand for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "I believe him, though, Taria."

"So what is all of this about?" She asked.

"Gul'dan is doing something, near the portal. We don't know what. If Khadgar tries to find out using this link he has, Gul'dan might notice. He wants to anyway, I think."

"And you're going to do something," her voice was tight with worry.

"We don't have a plan yet." He reached across the table and squeezed her hand, briefly. "But you know he must be stopped, at whatever cost. Llane give his life toward that purpose."

"That doesn't mean you should give yours!" 

He shook his head. "And I don't want to. I don't know what Khadgar's thinking right now."

Taria's lips were pressed into a thin line. "I wanted this to be a pleasant meal, just the three of us," she said, her voice quiet.

Anduin stood and kissed his sister's head. "Don't meddle," he said lightly. It coaxed a smile out of her. "I know you have a pile of paperwork for me to go through somewhere. Now where is it?"

"Offering to help Khadgar in the library, now offering to work on bureaucracy?" She shook her head, and actually didn't seem pleased.

She knew him too well. It was either keep his mind occupied and bored, or drink. 

#

Khadgar threw on his cloak and left the castle, for once not to go out to some battle. That was new in and of itself; it had been a while since he just took time to himself away from his research, away from the seemingly endless list of questions that he needed to find answers to. 

The guards weren't happy about him leaving the castle, but the guards generally weren't happy with many of the things he did these days. He wondered if they were just as protective of Medivh when he visited, or if it was just the fact that he was newer to the position and younger that made them wary.

_What else could Gul'dan use those runes for, if not the invasion he was hoping?_ Khadgar thought, going through the list of possibilities in his mind as he walked. Each rune was a summoning device in and of itself, but each one only strong enough to summon a few demons before the power would be expended. He didn't have the full array; what else could he achieve?

He thought that he should probably ask Anduin, who had the more militaristic mind of the two of them; but of course, Gul'dan and Anduin couldn't be much more different if they tried.

Maybe the question should have been...what _wouldn't_ Anduin do, faced with that situation? That might lead to a quicker, more accurate answer.

He was so distracted by his own thoughts that he didn't realize he was being watched until a hand clamped down on his arm and threw him against the nearest stone wall, and he immediately started to chant out a spell, eyes and hand glowing—until a thick strip of cloth got shoved into his mouth, and tied tightly behind his head. 

Gagged. They'd gagged him, and panic quickly set in, remembering the Orc hand clamped over his mouth, one twitch away from killing him, that one grip leaving him helpless. In the dim light it took a moment to realize it wasn't an Orc pinning both of his wrists painfully to the wall, but instead the mountain of a man from the bar weeks ago—and his friend behind him that Khadgar had temporarily turned into a goat.

"Told ya it'd work. These mage types, they need to talk to be castin' spells," the smaller one said, and the larger one grunted, a smirk on his face. Khadgar tried to remember anything from the one lesson he'd had with Lothar, and he kicked out hard, aiming for the man's groin—but the man easily shifted to dodge the blow, and then let go of one wrist to deliver a vicious punch right to Khadgar's midsection. Khadgar could have sworn something crunched that shouldn't have, and his free hand flew to his stomach as he doubled over as much as he could with one wrist still held tight to the wall, trying desperately to drag air back into his lungs.

"Not so tough now without your fancy parlor tricks, are ya?" the man said, and Khadgar scrambled for the gag with his now free hand, but was interrupted by a hand tangling in his hair and slamming his head firmly against the wall. He saw stars and his vision swam, and for a moment all he could hear was the ringing in his ears and the laughter of the two men as something warm and wet slid down the back of his neck. Blood. Probably blood.

#

Anduin thought he was seeing words swimming in front of his eyes even after he'd closed them. He didn't know how Khadgar could stand reading that much, all the time. 

Granted, spellbooks and history were a lot more interesting than taxes and petty grievances, so that probably made the difference. 

He'd actually just laid his head down with a thunk on his desk, fully intending to pass out right where he was, when Taria came and patted his back. "If you did a little at a time while you were here, Lothar, it wouldn't be so very much at once."

"Yes, but then I would have to do this all the time, instead of just once in a while," he mumbled.

"Khadgar isn't back yet," she murmured.

"The bookworm can take care of himself," he muttered back. 

She put her fingers in his hair and gave it a shake, a little too firm to be only affectionate. "What happened, Lothar? Why the change of heart?"

He sat up and gave her a long look. "Stop meddling."

"You know I'll never do that," she smiled at him.

Grumbling, he let her shoo him out of the study.

\---

Anduin went to his room for a while after that, and started to clean his armor, but the thing about cleaning armor is that it left your brain free to think about whatever it wanted. What Anduin's brain wanted, in that moment, was to think about the fel, and Gul'dan, and how that one evil sorcerer had corrupted his entire life. He wished desperately that Khadgar wasn't right; that there was some way for one man to stand against him. But he knew he would just be more fodder for the evil magic, exactly like poor Moroes.

He had witness Khadgar cleanse it before, and he had a firm belief he could do it again. But there was a large difference between one demon in one man, and a large amount of luck, and a network opening itself into the fel. You couldn't open up a portal and throw a golem onto that. Medivh was weak when Khadgar had pulled the fel out. Gul'dan just seemed to be getting stronger. 

Disgusted with himself, he threw down his chestplate. Taria had wanted him to check on Khadgar; he was increasingly in need of a drink. He'd walk to the Slaughtered Lamb, he decided. If he passed Khadgar on the way, the mage couldn't accuse him of checking up on him. 

With that in mind he donned a cloak and left the castle, heading for the mage district.

As he crossed the little bridge out of the trade district, however, three dark shapes caught his eye. He would have left them be, except there was something familiar about the Orcish build on the one man. 

When he heard a whimper, he launched himself over the railing, landing on the paved walkway, and tapped the man's shoulder. _That's right,_ he remembered, _This was the man whose friend Khadgar turned into a goat._  He glanced over and saw that yes, goat-man was there, too. "Who are you harassing today?" He asked, giving them both a scrutinizing look when they turned around.

The one man—the smaller one—looked sick upon seeing him. The larger just looked angry. 

"I told you then. Stay out of our business. _My lord._ " He spat on the street.

Anduin cocked his head to the side. "Move out of my way," he said. "Show me what you're doing there."

The man was effectively blocking his vision of whoever they had cowering against the wall. 

#

Khadgar was still seeing stars from a second blow and another follow—up punch to the stomach when he heard a familiar voice—and somehow he managed to be both relieved and mortified at the same time. After all, hadn't Anduin _just_ been trying to teach him how to fight for himself, and telling him that he was about as effective on his own as a _kitten_?

He could hear the teasing now. Well, mostly the ringing in his ears, but also the future teasing.

The huge oaf of a man let go of him in order to turn and look at Anduin, and Khadgar dropped, gasping as pain fired through his ribs and his head. Did Anduin feel like this every time he took a beating out on the battlefield? Khadgar didn't see how he functioned like this. Nonetheless, he reached up and fumbled with the gag with shaking hands, and as soon as it came loose, he started to cast.

" _S—Shala—_ "'

His eyes and hands had only just started to glow briefly before he got a brutal kick to the chest for his trouble, slamming him back into the wall again; then, as if knowing the jig was up, the mountain of a man turned and threw a punch at Anduin, though his skinnier friend wasn't joining in the melee—he seemed to have at least one brain cell left.

#

Anduin's blood ran cold at the familiar, pained voice as it was abruptly cut off. There was no mistaking the brief flare of blue light that stuttered out along with it.

He ducked the first punch the large man threw easily enough. He came back with a quick jab, just under the ribs, followed in quick succession by hits to the stomach (that was like hitting a wall, Anduin reflected as he shook his fist out) and one to the face, breaking the man's nose with a satisfying, wet crunch. 

The man howled in pain, but unbelievably didn't seem bothered in the least. 

"You dare assault the Guardian in my city," Anduin bit out.

"You're not our true king," the man sneered back, wiping the blood from his lip.

"Your true king would have had you thrown in the barracks for assaulting his friend," Anduin ducked another punch. "Unfortunately for you, I wasn't raised on the throne." He stomped down hard on the man's booted foot, brought his knee into his groin and hit him with his head.

That should have taken a normal man out. As it was, he must have been a brawler, because he picked Anduin up, screaming, and threw him into the canal. 

Anduin grabbed onto the nearest boat and launched himself back on the street. He must have hit Khadgar, because the mage was doubled over. 

_He was going to kill them,_  he mused. _And then he was going to have to abdicate, and his own sister was going to give him a death sentence._  A small price to pay, he decided. 

The man cracked his knuckles. Anduin charged him and threw himself up onto his shoulders, getting his legs firmly around his trunk of a neck. Choking, the man beat at him with his hands as his friend stared at them in abject horror. 

  
#

Khadgar would have really, really liked to be able to breathe properly. Unfortunately, every breath seemed to bring with it a cascade of agony from his stomach all the way up through his back and his head—and never mind trying to stand up. That wasn't happening in the least.

It wasn't as if he wasn't used to pain—but spiritual pain, the kind associated with magic, was an entirely different kind of pain. He wasn't used to _this_ kind of pain.

But he had to do something. It seemed Anduin was holding his own, but this man was obviously skilled in a street fight—so it was time to get him out of his comfort zone.

" _Elrendar, da no zaram_ ," he hissed, tasting blood in his words as he extended one shaking hand toward the canal. A shape rose up from the water, golden shackles of light binding the watery creature into shape—and it grabbed the skinnier one of the two and tossed him into a boat in the canal, out of the way. 

" _Anar talah no_!" he ordered the familiar, aiming it at the enemy only and not at Anduin as he leaned back against the stone wall with a wince of pain and one hand pressed to his chest. The familiar grabbed onto the giant man's wrists with an iron grip made out of only coursing water—but of course, water was stronger than it looked. Khadgar had a lot of respect for water—after all, growing up in a floating city meant swimming lessons had never been on the curriculum.

The huge man was caught off guard, eyes widening in terror as he realized that the thing holding him in place wasn't human at all, but a near—humanoid conjuration of water, with powerful jets of water where feet should have been.

#

Anduin didn't release his grip on the man's throat. A flood of relief washed over him upon seeing Khadgar cast a spell. If he was well enough to chuck magic around, he would be all right. 

That didn't take care of the brute, though. He watched wide-eyed as a giant _thing_  just manifested from nothing and stalked forward to grab the man. It appeared to made of water. Anduin hoped that the mage knew what he was doing.

"Spell-chucker," Anduin called down from his seat, "Are you all right?" He eyed the water-thing warily. 

One wrong answer and the man under him was going to find his neck twisted right off. At least he seemed to be cowering in fear. "That's right," he hissed into the man's ear. "You don't want to piss him off. Or me. But unlucky you, you've managed to do both."

#

Khadgar was mostly concentrating on controlling the spell—familiars had to be constantly channeled commands, even silently, which made for a difficult upkeep of the spell. Khadgar had never been as good at conjuring familiars as some of his classmates, but if he didn't maintain control of it, it would lash out at everyone but the mage.

"I'm...I'm alright," he managed, his voice coming out breathless and pained. His ribs and chest felt like they were on fire, the back of his head was aching sharply, and he could feel blood dripping down his back. The water familiar made a sound like water crashing against rocks, tightening its grip the slightest bit; it didn't do well with being controlled, and it really wanted to take it out on the human in its watery grip.

"Just t-tell me what you want...the familiar to do," he explained to Anduin, the struggle clear in his voice. "I have c-control of it."

He would defer to Anduin on this one. His head was spinning and he felt like he couldn't think straight.

#

Anduin let out a long, drawn out, _loud_  sigh, then hopped down from the tree of a man. He went over swiftly to inspect Khadgar. What he saw made him tense in anger. He hissed to Khadgar, worry clear in his eyes, "What I _want_  is to murder that son of a murloc." His fists clenched at his sides. "But as Regent, he needs to go to the barracks so our guards can lock him up for trial."

He felt along Khadgar's belly, identifying what was wrong quickly with a gentle touch. "It's not far, but a cracked rib is painful. Our healer is going to kill us," he said. "Can you walk? I can carry you otherwise."

#

Khadgar flinched as Anduin found the problem area—well, one of them, and he looked up at the familiar, eyes glowing.

"Alu tar'natal," he said, and the watery creature wrenched the man's hands behind his back. "'Shiv'na tar andala," he added, and the familiar started pushing the man forward, toward the barracks. Khadgar reached up and felt the back of his head with a hiss, and when he pulled it back, his fingers were bright red and sticky with blood.

"I n-need to concentrate until the familiar gets him to the guards. It's...not easy to control," he explained, trying to push himself up—but only sinking back against the wall with a groan as the world spun around him.

Yeah, the healer was definitely going to kill them for getting into trouble yet again. But in his defense, he hadn't been _looking_ for trouble this time, which was an improvement, right?

#

"All right, new plan," Anduin said. "Easy. Just don't move and keep him there."

He sprinted off until he found a guard, sending her after a healer. To her credit, she returned quickly with a priest in tow. 

The healer bent over Khadgar and got to work, while Anduin watched their prisoner with his arms crossed and his gaze steely. The man tsk'd the whole while, and it grated on Anduin's nerves, already raw with concern.

"Can't you work faster?" He finally snapped.

"Yes, if you want me to hurt your friend," the man replied evenly.

At long last he finished. "It will still be sore for a day or two," he warned, with a sideways glance at the thug, who had a vein popping in his jaw in anger.

"It'll be sore a lot longer when I get out and find you," the burly man threatened.

"Really?" Anduin said, and going against his nature to never hit a man who couldn't defend himself, leapt and brought his fists down in a hammer against the man's head.

He went down like felled lumber.

"Now can we bring him to the barracks?" Anduin asked.

#

Khadgar had never been more grateful to be able to actually breathe than he was right about now, as he felt the priest direct the healing energy through him. The warm light settled in the places that felt the worst, focusing there, easing the pain bit by bit until Khadgar was finally able to take deep breaths again. His chest and head were still sore, but now when he sat up straighter, he didn't feel like someone was twisting a knife in his ribs.

"Thank you," he said to the healer, since Anduin was distracted by the unruly brute. He almost laughed when Anduin took out the massive man in one hit, and with a sigh of relief, he let the water familiar fall apart—so not only would the criminal end up waking up in a cell with a headache, but also soaking wet with dirty canal water.

Khadgar stood up slowly as the guards moved in to start hauling the unconscious man to the barracks—none of them had wanted to get too close when the water elemental was still holding him in place. "Take it easy for a few days, alright?" the healer said to him, and Khadgar nodded as the healer turned to head back to the Cathedral.

That left him and Anduin there by the canal. Khadgar hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing at the feel of tacky, drying blood there.

"Thank you," he said softly. "They, uh...they caught me off guard."

#

Anduin couldn't stop himself from reaching out and pulling Khadgar into his chest. He kept it a one-armed hug, too self-aware to break propriety completely, but he closed his eyes briefly with his nose in the shorter man's hair.

The blood on Khadgar's neck was more than he had expected to see.

_Screw appearances,_ he thought, and brought his other arm up to enclose Khadgar's shoulders. "I should have taken them out the first time," he said under his breath. Of all the ways to lose the mage, a couple of common thugs would not have been his first thought.

"I leave you alone for a few hours," he said more loudly, "And this is what happens. Can you please take a guard with you while you're in the city? It can even be Dijon, or whatever his name is. Take Mustard with you. At least he can come get me if there's a problem, if not help you with it."

#

Of all the possible things that Khadgar might have guessed would happen next, _that_ was not one of them.

Not that he was complaining. 

He felt his stomach do an awkward flip at being so close, at feeling Lothar pressed against him, and it was a long, stunned moment before he got his wits about him and actually managed to return the hug. "I'm fine, really," he said, though he was shaking and he knew it.

It wasn't from fear of those two men, or even from the pain now; it was from having been cut off from the only real defense he had. It's happened too much lately, far too much. He hated it.

Medivh wouldn't have needed to be saved from that. Then again, Medivh had decades of spell casting without speaking under his belt, much longer than Khadgar.

"I'll take a guard next time," he conceded, willing to do that much if it made Lothar feel better. Not that he left the castle often anyway, but the least he could do was make that one promise.

After Orcs, Dwarves, and demons, he'd forgotten that common prejudice could still be such a danger. 

#

Anduin drew out the hug as long as he could, until he realized his clothes were being wrung out against Khadgar's, soaking the mage with canal water.

"And come to train with me again tomorrow," he added.

He'd felt how Khadgar was trembling. The encounter had actually shaken the mage.

"Come on, Demon Slayer," he said, trying the nickname out on his tongue. "Let me buy you a drink, or at least sit with me. Taria will notice that I've taken a swim if I don't dry out first."

#

Yeah, about that time Anduin was mentioning training was about the same time that Khadgar realized he was soaking through Khadgar's robes, and he smelled like the canal.

"I didn't exactly crush them with my newfound knowledge, did I?" he half-joked, pulling back from Anduin and wrinkling his nose.

"And I think she'll smell you coming anyway," he pointed out, and then he managed a smirk. "I could always tell her you drunkenly fell in the canal."

He definitely didn't _feel_ like a 'demon slayer', that was for sure.

#

"You could," Anduin said, cheered that Khadgar could joke with him after appearing so shaken. "But I would have to be drunk."

He knocked a shoulder into Khadgar's, taking pity on him. "We can go back to the castle if you'd rather. I think you need a bath. Did you know how bad you smell?"

#

Khadgar shot Anduin a glare, though there was no heat behind it. "I wonder why," he said dryly, wringing the canal water from the front of his cloak. He wasn't actually mad, obviously—he found it infuriatingly difficult to stay mad at Anduin. 

"Perhaps I should summon that water familiar again, have it give you a big hug," he added with a mischievous look. Wouldn't that be funny—watching Anduin try to fend off a hug from a creature made of water.

The familiar wouldn't be happy about it, that was for sure. They weren't the 'hugging' type.

#

"If you want to go swimming, spell-chucker," Anduin threatened with a grin.

There, with the lamps flickering along the street and the sound of water lapping soothingly against the docks, with Khadgar looking at him with humor in those large, warm eyes, Anduin found his suggestion of a dark bar less and less appealing.

He had no desire to dull or dilute that moment.

"Let's take a walk," he suggested instead. "It will dry us off."

#

"You wouldn't," Khadgar said with a laugh, though he wasn't _sure_ of that, to be fair. Still, he was pretty sure.

"A walk was what I'd been trying to do in the first place," he pointed out, shaking his head; he just hadn't expected his walk to get interrupted by two men holding a grudge from weeks ago. 

He kind of wished he'd turned both of them into farm animals, now. 

"But yeah, that...sounds nice. At least to get dry before we head back," he said with a shrug. "I'm sure the guards will have informed your sister that _something_ happened by then, though."

#

"Good," Anduin nodded with a slight smile. "Let them do our work for us."

He started down the street, following the curve of the canal as it wound around the inner part of Stormwind. It was a pleasant night, and from years spent at the shoulder of Llane, Anduin fell back out of habit, a half-step behind Khadgar. It was the best place to shield someone from behind while keeping an eye on all sides of them.

From that position, he could let his mind wander. Khadgar said he'd come out for a walk, so that meant he likely needed to think. He let a comfortable silence fall between them.

They passed the barracks, mostly empty now with the remainder of the trained troops guarding Sentinel Hill. He would have to begin recruiting again from the neighboring lands; Stranglethorn would be a waste of time with how sparsely populated it was, but perhaps Swamp of Sorrows had some youth who would like to join their cause. After trying to keep his son from battle for so long, it twisted his heart to think of taking someone else's, but they were out of options.

He wondered if the Dark Irons would join them after all. He didn't have much hope for that; they seemed the type to care about their own people and land, and only worry about threats when they appeared at their door. As so many did.

Selfish, he thought. Most people were selfish.

He looked at Khadgar's profile in the lamplight. Perhaps that was why he was drawn to the mage. For some reason he cared about Azeroth, as Anduin did, whether or not the people were kind, whether or not they were deserving. He had watched the mage put others before himself time and again, keeping the larger picture in mind. It was a quality he admired deeply.

The only problem with that, he reflected, was that he knew what this world did to good men.

He realized that they were almost at Stormwind's graveyards, and he did an about-face so quickly he didn't even realize he was doing it until he noticed they were headed toward the harbor.

That was good enough a destination, he thought. There was a shipment that needed inspecting, and this was as good a time as any. Khadgar could think just as well there as he waited for him as he would wandering aimlessly anywhere else.

#

Khadgar did a double take when Anduin shifted direction suddenly, but then he realized what had been ahead—King Llane's grave and monument. Of course Anduin wouldn't want to dwell on that tonight.

He adjusted his own course without comment, going along with the path toward the harbor. Khadgar had never been to the harbor in Stormwind; he'd always traveled by gryphon or port, so there had been no need for a ship. So he was taken aback by the massive harbor and the giant ships that moored there, one with sails open at the dock.

He leaned against the stone ledge overlooking the whole harbor, the smell of salt thick in the wind coming off the ocean, the moonlight and lamplight glancing off the dark waves. "I've never been on a ship," he said, eyes bright with curiosity as he watched the shiphands move boxes off one of the ships. "Somehow, there wasn't much need for them in a landlocked, floating city," he added with a smile. 

He knew his family was originally from a coastal town, but not much more than that. It made him wonder—would this be what he would be doing, if not for his aptitude with the arcane? Working on the docks? 

...he would definitely have learned how to swim, at the least. 

But then he wouldn't have had the chance to help Azeroth the way he had, and...he wouldn't have met Anduin.

Somehow, that was an even worse thought. 

#

"I prefer traveling by land," Anduin said wryly. "My stomach doesn't love not being on solid ground." He glanced at Khadgar, and was surprised to see the slight longing and trace of wonder on his face. "But I have to anyway, at times. That dock, there—" he pointed to the one at the end, framed by tall, beautifully carved pillars. "That ship will take you to Darnassus. I was thinking we might want to appeal to the Elves, since any threat to one part of Azeroth is a threat to it all." He shook his head. "A pipe dream though. It will be hard to gain foreign recruits with an ocean in between us."

He started down the steps, calling back, "Perhaps you'll want to come with me. We'll have an opportunity to take a ship to Stranglethorn before the year is out, there's trade we do with them."

Khadgar's hair ruffled in the breeze. He looked peaceful like that, looking at the water.

He tilted his head. "Are you coming? I have something to check on. It won't take more than a half hour, but if you've never seen the inside of a ship..."

#

"Knowing my luck, I would get horribly seasick," Khadgar pointed out with a chuckle, though when Anduin asked if he was coming, he quickly pushed away from the low wall to follow.

"Stranglethorn?" he repeated, his face lighting up. "The Zandalari have a huge presence there. I'll bet I could find some interesting texts on their combinations of magic and herbal offensives..."

He trailed off and blushed a little as he remembered that Anduin probably didn't care about ancient Zandalari texts. "I doubt you would want me along if you visit Darnassus. I think they rival the Dwarves in their dislike of mages," he pointed out softly, following Anduin down toward the docks.

"Are you sure I won't be in the way? Those ships don't seem that spacious on the inside."

#  


"They're distrustful of all humans. It will be good for them," Anduin said. "They should meet our new Guardian. You'll have me with you, if you choose to go."

He smiled at Khadgar's sudden excitement. "Stranglethorn is a shorter trip. It might be a good test of your sea legs. This shipment is from there. And don't worry about the size of the ship. It houses a whole crew on the open sea."

Anduin hopped across the small divide between dock and ship and padded up the stairs before heading back down again, into the cargo hold. It was full of wooden crates. He found a crowbar on the ground and pried one open, and, finding it in order, began counting his shipment. 

When he'd finished, he began prying the rest of them open and carefully tamping them back down, one by one.

"Leather," he said by way of explanation. "Padded armor for our troops and skins for tents."

He found the ledger in the office and made a note to the captain that it was ready for trade.

#

Khadgar hesitated before stepping across the small gap; he wasn't _afraid_ of water, per say, but the ocean was still intimidating. The ship was moored and steady, though, and as usual, he set to exploring whilst Anduin worked. 

The ship's crew seemed to recognize him, at least, and didn't complain as he moved about the ship, noting things that he'd only read about before. It was one thing to read about them, a whole different thing entirely to actually see and touch them. One of the crew was nice enough to even give him a quick show of how the sails worked.

After that, though, Khadgar went to the back end of the ship, where it faced out toward the ocean; he hopped up on the edge and sat with his legs dangling over the water, watching as fish circled below and the lantern on the back of the ship reflected across the gentle waves of the harbor. The nearby lighthouse was brightly lit, but he didn't see the lights of any incoming ships on the horizon. 

He rarely got moments like this, just to think and have some quiet time to himself; he knew that across that ocean was Kalimdor, another place he wanted to someday visit, even if it was dangerous to do so. 

He was a little less concerned about the regular dangers of travel these days, when he had the fel to worry about. 

  
#

Anduin nodded to the first mate as he ascended to the deck. It took him a moment to spot Khadgar seated on the stern, looking out toward open water. He saw a longing similar to his own thirst for adventure in that pose, in how the mage was turned toward the horizon. 

Khadgar, though, was more curious than he was.

Once Anduin had been content in Stormwind. He'd had a family and friends worth protecting. He'd never felt the need to look elsewhere for what he was missing. Khadgar, though...he hadn't had that in his life. His own family had given him up. The Kirin Tor could not have possibly been like a real home, not with what Khadgar had told him. The fact that he had run away was proof enough of that. So he could understand, on some level, the appeal of the unknown. The search for something you've never had. 

Anduin didn't have anything better to do, he decided. He went and found the first mate again and asked if there was anything he could help with; it turned out there were quite a lot of boxes in addition to his own cargo that needed to make it to the docks before sunrise. Anduin stripped off the heavy, sopping wet jerkin and hung it over the railing to dry, leaving his chest bare to the cool night air. He went to make himself useful while Khadgar dreamed.

#

Khadgar was wondering if the small amount of Taurahe he knew would be enough to get by in Kalimdor when he noticed his hands were glowing. He didn't have a chance to get back on deck before the surge in his own magic hit him like a runaway kodo—it was only thanks to a quick thinking (and very brave, really) crew member nearby that he didn't pitch right overboard.

Despite the glowing eyes and hands, the shiphand yanked him back and lowered him to the deck, already yelling for the regent. Khadgar, meanwhile, knew what was happening and was trying to focus, braced on his hands and knees on the ship's deck, his own glow reflecting off the wood below him.

It was definitely a summoning spell, he could feel that now. But all that energy that had been strewn through the network in order to funnel into Stormwind was all now being pulled back, focused instead at the Dark Portal.

But the incantation he heard wasn't the one for the Orc home world. Gul'dan didn't have the strength to keep a portal open long enough for an army to get through. That's why he'd needed Medivh on this side.

So _what was he summoning?_

Khadgar's hands shook and the light in his eyes pulsed brighter as he tried to figure out what the spell was, what Gul'dan was trying to do—it was nearly impossible to stay focused when it was his own magic acting as a 'translator'. Despite the cool night air, he could feel sweat drip down from his hairline as he fought to stay upright and concentrating.

#

Anduin was already on his way when the deck swab found him—he'd heard the shout go up and had Khadgar pegged as the source. 

Call it intuition.

Or call it the memory of a thousand other times that the source of trouble was the mage. 

He leapt from dock to boat. It wasn't hard to find Khadgar on the ship; he was a beacon of light in the relative darkness. The younger man looked almost as if he were seizing; Anduin's hands hovered a hair's breadth from his shoulders, uncertain if he should interrupt whatever was happening.

"Are you all right?" He whispered. "Is it Gul'dan? What's he doing?" He looked to Khadgar's face for answers, but with the magic obscuring his eyes he had no way to read him. "Khadgar."

#

" _Ered'nash h-havik_ -no, gods, I'm sorry," Khadgar said through a clenched jaw, shaking his head as he tried to separate magic from where he actually was. "Summoning, he's...he's summoning something—"

His words cut off with a groan; he felt like someone had shoved him into a furnace and set him to cook there. "Not an army. Not...it's not to another world, it's...it's _between_ —"

The connection severed abruptly as Gul'dan stopped collecting the fel energy, for the moment; it probably took as much out of him as it did from Khadgar to just eavesdrop, probably more. It would take many more sessions before he could harness enough energy back, that was for sure; it had been too spread out.

Khadgar crumpled against Anduin, dragging air into lungs that were still aching from the earlier healing, his hair sticking to his overheated skin with sweat—and then he realized his hand was pressed to Anduin's bare chest and not his shirt.

"...W—Why aren't you wearing a shirt?"

The few crew members standing nearby watched nervously as the glow faded from Khadgar's hands and eyes. "Uh, Sir Lothar...should we fetch a healer?" one asked hesitantly. Granted, it was nice that they looked more concerned than afraid. 

#

Anduin waved them off, though he was grateful that it seemed some of his countrymen had sense when it came to magic and mages. "No. Thank you. It won't help." 

_Probably because they're sailors,_  he mused. _Travelers. They're used to seeing things they don't understand._

Khadgar was no longer speaking demon, so that was a relief.

_In between,_  Anduin turned that thought around in his head. He'd known shadow priests, though they were rare in Stormwind, and he remembered what they'd told him of their powers.

"Shadows?" He suggested. "The void? What—"

Khadgar spoke over him though, and his words were as effective as lopping off his tongue.

"Light," Anduin breathed. And it was more of a curse than anything else. 

A thousand gestures, a thousand looks, a thousand blushes suddenly made sense. 

Here was Khadgar, talking about Gul'dan and the war and the fel and the void, and what the mage had noticed was Anduin's bare skin. He had been dense enough it seemed to last him a lifetime. 

He stared down at Khadgar with his mouth parted, wondering why he'd never said anything, and wondering how he could possibly have missed the signs. 

_But does this change anything?_  He asked himself. _You're still king. He's still the Guardian. And the closer you allow him, the more it will hurt to lose him._

_No._

_The more it will hurt_ him _to lose you. The more it will put_ him _in danger trying to protect you._  Everything Khadgar had done for him suddenly made sense. 

It was everything he wanted, and everything he feared.

Anduin realized he'd forgotten to breathe.

He waved off the crew with thanks a second time. 

He supported Khadgar's weight easily, and maneuvered them to the railing so he could grab his shirt with one hand. He tucked it under his armpit as he helped Khadgar get off the boat. 

The shipyard was mainly deserted, save for the skeleton crews on the ships. He got them over to a stack of crates, and lowered Khadgar, crouching on his heels in front of him. His hand rested on the mage's leg. 

Whatever this revelation brought, he realized, he was going to have to be more careful with his words and actions. He drew his hand back into his own lap.

_If you allow this, you could be happy,_  he thought, and practically choked on the thought. Because: _If you allow this..._

_Llane. Medivh. Garona. His wife. His son._

He couldn't lose another and survive.

"What—" Anduin cleared his throat and tried again. "What is it, then, that Gul'dan is trying to do?"

If he knew Khadgar at all, he knew he would likely already have an idea.

#

Khadgar was still trying to make sense of the look Anduin was giving him when suddenly the man was helping him to his feet. He would have buckled back to the deck, were it not for Anduin's help—so for once, he gratefully accepted the support getting off the ship and onto steady land.

He could think about Anduin's reaction later. Right now, he was trying to cool off and keep his wits about him. 

He was hyper aware of Anduin's hand set supportively on his leg—and just as aware when he pulled it back. He tried not to think too much into it. Not right now.

"It's still...not entirely clear. He's still gathering the fel energy that had been spread across the whole network," he said, pushing his hair back off his forehead. "It will take him a while to focus all of it again. Until then, the things I'm hearing and seeing, it's...it's all too scattered. It's hard to stay focused, I'm just getting echoes for now."

He flinched at a sharp pain from his head. Yeah, this probably wasn't what the healer meant when he said 'take it easy'. "All I know is...it's demonic in nature, the spell. Eredun. He's reaching into the nether."

#

"So in between these attempts of his," Anduin was struggling to focus on Khadgar's words. His mind was reeling. Here he was, faced with the threat of the fel and the destruction of Azeroth, and his feelings for the man in front of him were overpowering his concern. 

_This was why pursuing this would be dangerous,_  he told himself harshly. 

But for a moment, all he could focus on was Khadgar's face, and the way his eyes became distant as he worked through his thoughts, and the curl of hair against his forehead, and the movement of his lips. 

It felt like he was saying goodbye, he realized. Before, when he didn't there was any possibility that Khadgar returned his affections, it had been easy to ignore the way he felt and easy to be around him. Now that he knew there was potential...that it wasn't just one-sided...that he could hurt the other man with one careless move or pose a threat to his life if his enemies found out...

"...in between these attempts of his," Anduin forced out, "He will be weakened?"

There was one way to protect Khadgar, he thought. And that would be to eliminate Gul'dan.

#

"He would have to be. It depends on how quickly he tries to make this happen. But he's...impatient, I think," Khadgar pointed out, licking his lips. Anduin kept giving him that _look_ , and it was...distracting. To say the least.

"He's...Anduin, is everything alright?" he finally asked, unable to just shake it off any longer. "You're acting...strange."

It couldn't just be because of the vision. This had happened before, they'd been expecting it to happen again—

Maybe Anduin had figured him out. Maybe he'd somehow ruined everything already, giving away how he felt without even meaning to. 

#

“Everything’s fine,” Anduin lied through his teeth, knowing well he was not the best liar. He gave Khadgar most sincere smile he could, and cupped his head briefly to reassure him. “I’m just worried,” he admitted, more honestly. “I don’t like this connection you have to Gul’dan. I don’t want him exploiting it.”

He stood, mostly to put distance between himself and Khadgar before he did something he’d regret. He held out a hand to help the mage to his feet, and cursed the slight tremor he felt in his fingers.

_It doesn’t change anything._

_Keep telling yourself that._ Khadgar was already protective, and he’d held this secret close to his chest. If Anduin showed any interest, he had no doubt that Khadgar’s loyalty would grow even stronger, putting him in even more danger, and possibly cloud his judgment.

_He has to be willing to sacrifice you,_ he told himself. _It’s the only way any play against Gul’dan will work._

He made sure that there was space between them as he waited for Khadgar to gather himself to go back to the castle.

#

Khadgar didn't believe him, but he also automatically assumed the worst—that Anduin had figured it out, and that he was just lying to keep things from going south between them at the worst of times.

Anduin probably hated him. It wasn't like he'd ever thought he had an actual chance, or that in a million years Anduin might return those feelings—but he thought he'd done a good job of hiding it.

Evidently not.

"There's no sign that Gul'dan knows I'm still connected to that network. If he did, he would have found a way to severe the connection by now, I'm sure," Khadgar said, though it was just a guess. An educated guess, anyway. 

He stood up slowly, wavering, rubbing the back of his head where it was throbbing from both the mostly healed wound and the exertion from being caught up in the spell. He didn't reach for help from Anduin, though, and didn't expect any this time.

He was just the Guardian doing his duty by helping his Regent protect Azeroth. Once he'd done that, he would do what Anduin surely wanted—retreat to Karazhan and continue his studies on his own, where he couldn't bother his friend with...unwanted, unrequited feelings. 

It's the loneliness that makes us weak, Medivh's words rang in his head, but he ignored them.

He would just have to try to be stronger, when he felt nothing of the sort. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry-not-sorry?
> 
> ^^;;;
> 
> Please don't kill us for the cliffhanger.


	4. Fourth Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes take on Gul'dan, and their feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can it be? Did we finally get to the chapter everyone's been waiting for? XD
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been reading and commenting - your comments keep us going on this monster of a project!

Anduin's hand remained mid-air as Khadgar ignored it completely and turned away from him. Stunned, he realized that his intentions had been read clearly, and getting his way for once felt like a loss, not a victory. 

Khadgar was smart, he reminded himself. He had figured out the guardian's betrayal on his own, and was now singlehandedly deconstructing Gul'dan. Of course he could read Anduin like an open book.

...even if all he was picking up on were Anduin's lies. 

He let his hand fall to his side. 

"Khadgar," he started. 

He didn't know what to say, though, not really. He wished he could just be honest. He wished, desperately, that he weren't so _afraid_ for the mage. 

His fingers curled into his palms.

He gathered up his strength and tried again. "Now that you know what he's doing, can you focus your research? Will this help you figure out how to stop him?"

#

Khadgar felt sick to his stomach, and he wasn't sure how much of it was from the spell, and how much was just from the feeling he got having to shove aside any feelings he might have. The Kirin Tor had never outright banned relationships or things of the sort, but they'd heavily discouraged them–said they were volatile, distracting, and potentially destructive.

Now he knew what they meant.

He got Anduin's meaning behind his words loud and clear–stop pining. Start doing your job. You're a Guardian, act like one. He took in a deep breath, swallowed hard, and nodded. "I have some leads I can work with now," he said, which was true enough; he knew better what he was looking for now. "We should...head back. I have a lot of work to do."

_A lot of work so you can leave Anduin alone, and not pester him with this nonsense, you mean._

_#_

Anduin sighed and nodded. As they walked back through the darkened streets of Stormwind, he wrung out his shirts, and about when they reached the auction house he deemed them dry enough to pull back on over his head. 

It felt like donning armor. 

When they had almost reached the castle, he mentioned, "While you do your research, I'm going to head out to Darkshire and check up on our troops. It will help their morale to see their regent stand with them, and I'd like the opportunity to recruit more forces. From there I'll likely go to the Swamp of Sorrows to do the same." He glanced down at Khadgar, and hoped he hadn't ruined his chances for the mage keeping himself safe in his absence. "Remember your promise to keep a guard with you," he said. 

_#_

Khadgar nodded; it made sense, not just for the regent to be seen with his troops–but also to put more space between himself and the Guardian.

It made all the sense in the world.

It also hurt like a blow.

"I'll send word if I find anything important," he said, eyes either firmly on the ground or straight ahead and his hands shoved in his pockets as he walked. Both their demeanors seemed to confuse the two guards at the outer gate, who gave each other brief looks of confusion–but obviously didn't speak up for fear of being turned into a sheep. Or sent to the barracks.

#

"Good," Anduin murmured. 

Except everything was _not good,_  and there was no hope in his Light-forsaken world. 

"I need to go find the Queen and tell her of our plans," he said once they were inside the castle halls. He found a shred of his dignity and added, teasingly, as if everything were normal, "Stay out of trouble. I want to find this city still standing when I return, spell-chucker."

He took his leave, all but running from Khadgar. 

The guards directed him to the library to find Taria, who got up anxiously when she saw him. "I was so worried," she said unabashedly. "I thought this would be the best place to catch you if you returned."

"I'm sorry," Anduin said. "We got into some trouble, but not too much, so don't worry. I even got some work in down at the docks with that shipment from Stranglethorn."

Taria frowned at him. She looked him over, and frowned harder. "You're soaked."

"I said some trouble," he said lightly. 

"Where's Khadgar?" She asked.

"Probably headed here," he said. "So we should go to your chambers. I have plans I want to discuss with you."

"And why wouldn't Khadgar be involved in those?" Her voice was parts curious, accusatory, and confused. 

"He's not very happy with me at the moment."

"Oh, Anduin," she said. Not Lothar, _Anduin._  By the Light, he'd made her upset with him, too.

"It's not my fault," he said. "Not really." There was a small crease between her eyes. He reached forward and pretended to smooth it with a smile. "Do not worry, sister."

"Why do you look like..." Taria's words trailed off. “He doesn’t return your feelings?”

Anduin shook his head. "Don't press into this. Please."

"If not that, what?"

"I can't–" he started to say, then cut himself off. 

Her eyes widened. "He does like you," she said.

Anduin started walking brusquely to the doors. 

"And you think you're protecting him," she called after his back. "From you."

"I'm going to Darkshire," he responded as he reached the hallway, "And from there Swamp of Swallows. We need to check up on Sentinel Hill and our army needs more recruits."

"You should just tell him," Taria said.

Anduin left.

_#_

Khadgar was moving significantly slower than Anduin, but found himself in the same place–just in time to catch the tail end of a conversation with Taria, it seemed. 

"Don't press into this. Please," Anduin was saying, and Khadgar's breath caught, his hand freezing just before he touched the door.

"If not that, what?"

"I can't–"

"'He does like you."

Khadgar's whole body tensed. Light, did everyone know? Was he doomed to have everyone know about his pitiful crush on the Regent of Stormwind?

"'And you think you're protecting him. From you," Taria continued, and Khadgar felt the knot in his stomach pull tighter. Protecting him by pretending to not know? Letting him down gently? He wasn't sure how much that counted as 'protection'.

"I'm going to Darkshire. And from there Swamp of Sorrows. We need to check up on Sentinel Hill and our army needs more recruits."

"You should just tell him."

_Yes, just tell me to give it up, that's it's completely idiotic, so I can try to move on from this and probably fail,_ Khadgar thought bitterly–and then he heard footsteps coming toward the door. He ducked away as the doors pushed open, out of sight of Anduin as he stalked down the hallway–but not out of sight of Taria, still in the library.

Khadgar held up a hand to stop her before she could twist the knife even more. "Don't. I just...don't," he said, his voice nearly cracking. He knew full well that it was incredibly disrespectful to speak to her that way, but he could't find it in him to care. "Lady Taria, I think I'm going to go do my work at Karazhan. The books there may be of more use."

#

Taria let out a long-suffering sigh, looking at the library doors with her lips pressed in a thin, pale line. She turned back to Khadgar and weighed her options. If Khadgar really was on the brink of leaving the castle, she would have no qualms telling Lothar's secrets. As it was, she knew the mage was brilliant. Perhaps if she tried to get him to figure it out on his own, she could help them without violating Lothar's trust. 

Though it would require telling more of his secrets.

He brought this on himself, she decided. Her husband was gone; she wasn't about to let Lothar avoid his own happiness that was alive and right in front of him because of his own insecurities. 

"Did you know," she said softly. "That Callan wanted to be like him from the moment he was old enough to speak." She didn't need to clarify who she meant. "But for so long he had pushed my nephew away. He said it was because he blamed him for Calla's death, but that wasn't all of it."

_#_

Khadgar had been about to leave when Taria started speaking again–though not about what he expected. He maybe expected encouragement to keep working with an Anduin despite the trouble, to just do his best with the situation; he hardly expected her to start speaking of Anduin's wife, and Callan.

He failed to see what she was getting at, but she was the Queen–and she could have thrown him in a cell for his tone alone, Guardian or not–so he respectfully humored her, for the moment, turning to face her again.

"Then what was it?" he asked softly, obviously...well, for lack of a better term, brokenhearted. He hated to think of it that way, but that was the truth of it. He didn't want her pity, but didn't have the strength to mask everything he was feeling right now.

#

“My brother thought that by pushing him away, by holding him at arm’s length, he could keep him safe. He thought Callan would learn to resent him enough that he would stop admiring him.” Taria smiled. “As if that would be possible. Can you imagine anyone not admiring the Lion of Azeroth, no matter how difficult he makes himself?”

 

She went to one of the desks in the room and played idly with a small dragon figurine, a gift her son Varian had given to King Llane.

 

“Of course Callan was still his son. It was natural for him to be a soldier, and a leader. He still had his blood, and his mother’s. She was no warrior, but she was strong in other ways. She always knew how to see through him when he was being especially difficult. “ She put the dragon back down on the desk. “It was a gift that she never gave up on him.”

 

Taria turned back to Khadgar.  She hated Anduin a little in that moment for making the mage look so wretched.

 

But, she thought, for someone to love her brother so much that his neglect made them want to run away to a haunted tower in the middle of the wastes…her lips tilted upward. If this wasn’t clear enough for Khadgar, she’d find the mage herself if he left for Karazhan and tell him exactly what her brother meant by his actions, confidential or not.

 

“He loved Callan so much,” she breathed. “I wasn’t sure he would recover from his death. And,” she turned back to Khadgar. “I’m not sure he has, in many ways. He feels that if, perhaps, Callan loved him less, he would have chosen a different path. He feels that he should have protected him better. But, of course, Callan was a hero. He lived like a hero, and he died a hero.

"But he deeply regrets holding him at arms' length. I've seen him drink himself sick over it."

 

She searched Khadgar’s eyes. “Do you understand?”  

#

At first, Khadgar _didn't_ understand. It took a few moments for him to go back through her words and for the implication to really click.

Then, he forgot how to breathe for a few moments.

"You...you can't be serious," he said, breathless with disbelief, because...it couldn't be. Anduin wouldn't possibly think of him that way. Khadgar was a 'bookworm', a 'spell-chucker', all those things that warriors made fun of when they hit the pubs in the evening. And Khadgar was obviously not use to handling these kinds of quandaries yet, because his emotions as he thought it through were like an open book on his face. "He can't...but I'm just...why?!"

Okay, perhaps not the best question to ask the guy's _sister_ , but one could hardly blame him, given the confusion he'd gone through so far that evening.

#

Taria laughed in relief. "You should speak with him," she said. "I do hope you stay and use our libraries, though, Khadgar, whatever happens. I know you're perfectly capable of handling yourself, but after what Lothar told me of what's happened to Karazhan, I would think the castle would be more hospitable. However difficult Lothar is," she added with a slight smile.

She started toward the door but paused as she passed him. "He smiles and laughs more easily with you here, Khadgar. You've been good for him. I know it's a lot to ask, but don't let him push you away."

She nodded her goodnight, and left him alone in the library.

#

It was easy to say, not so easy to do–like hell would Khadgar be straight up talking this over with Anduin. He was pretty sure he would burst into flames if he tried.

But...he wouldn't leave. He would stay here, at least for Taria's sake, even if Anduin was being difficult–and difficult was an understatement, really.

Of course, his guards weren't happy about Anduin leaving when the Guardian was having 'fits' every day, sometimes twice a day, to the point of running a dangerous fever at times. More than once Khadgar found himself flat on the floor of the library, with either a guard or Taria kneeling over him, pressing a cold rag to his forehead and neck.

And still, he couldn't figure out what Gul'dan had planned.

It was maddening. He knew he had to be missing something. But that something might be something that he would only figure out if he saw the spell in action–in other words, if he was there to see Gul'dan use it. 

And the fact that two days after he'd expressed this to Taria was the day Anduin returned couldn't be a coincidence, and he knew it. He didn't feel ready to talk to Anduin–about either subject, really––but he counted himself proud that he hadn't just ported out and done it anyway. He also didn't feel ready to see Anduin because he currently felt like he'd been stuffed into an oven, and Dion was kneeling over him on the floor trying to cool him off, and arguing that he really should fetch a healer no matter how many times Khadgar insisted he'd be fine.

  
#

Anduin returned with mud in places he'd rather not thinking about and more than one fresh injury, most healing over from a battle with the Orcs in Darkshare but several from crocolisk bites. None of them were serious; all were annoying. 

He went to see Taria immediately to report to her on what he'd found. He'd managed to recruit a little more than twenty more troops from the lands, and that was nothing to sneer at. Sentinel Hill seemed, for the moment, to be holding and in good hands. 

His next step would be to train the new recruits, once they arrived in a few days' time. He looked forward to it. It was work he could throw himself into, and stop himself from thinking so much. 

In the middle of his report, a guard rushed into the room. Taria held up a hand to Anduin and frowned. "Again?"

Anduin had a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Again, what?"

"Khadgar's been having episodes," she said mildly. 

Anduin closed his eyes, briefly, composing himself. 

Taria's gaze was concerned. "Why don't you go to him this time? Cool compresses help."

With a baleful look her way, and seeing no other option, he went with the guard to find Khadgar. 

"You need to break the connection, spell-chucker," he said by way of greeting. "Unless you've made progress, this isn't worth it."

He felt a little ill, seeing Khadgar sick on the floor. 

He didn't bend over to help, though–his overly friendly guard seemed to have that covered.

#

Khadgar felt a strange mix of relief and anxiety at the familiar voice; he opened his eyes, the glow in them just beginning to fade. "I know what I need to do," he said, his voice a little shaky, a little distant. "But you're not going to like it."

Dion snorted, but said nothing, because he was a good guard who valued his job and kept his snarky comments to himself. Mostly.

He did, however, press one gloved hand against Khadgar's shoulder when the mage tried to sit up. "Not yet. You still look like you took a smoke of herbal peacebloom," he muttered, referring to the way Khadgar's pupils dilated in the midst of the spell. "If I let you up, you'll fall on your face. Again."

"That was _once_."

" _You broke your nose._ "

"They healed it!"

Dion didn't relent, though, and Khadgar sighed. "I need to go to the Dark Portal," he finally said to Anduin. "I need to see the runes he's using. I just...can't see enough with the connection. It's too distant. Too scattered. If I get closer, things will be clearer."

#

Anduin looked bemusedly between the guard and Khadgar. On the one hand, the familiar tone the guard was taking rankled. On the other, if he were a friend to Khadgar, that meant he'd have a personal investment in his safety. Which was a very good thing.

He forced down a grim smile, knowing if he showed too much joy at the prospect Khadgar might suspect what was really on his mind. 

"Then we'll take you there," Anduin said pleasantly. "As long as you stay far back enough to port, and you do port out if anything goes wrong."

Anduin Lothar was sick of war, and sick of his people dying, and sick of worrying over Khadgar's safety.

If Khadgar wanted to go to observe Gul'dan, fine.

Anduin was going to go to kill him, once and for all.

He'd made that decision at the battle of Sentinel Hill. This just made things easier. If Khadgar ported them there, he'd have the element of surprise. 

"As long as you're sure he can't use that connection you have to harm you," he added, with a pointed look at Khadgar's distressed state. "Because this doesn't seem like a one-way connection to me."

#

Khadgar was surprised–pleasantly so–that Anduin actually agreed to go along with it.

Dion didn't look happy, but he rarely did, so that was hardly surprising.

He finally allowed Khadgar to at least sit up against a bookshelf, though, as his eyes had gone mostly back to normal. "It's one way, believe me," he explained, his voice tired. "It's just causing my own magic to...build up rapidly, which leads to mild mana poisoning. It's not dangerous. Usually."

Another snort from Dion. Khadgar gave him a look, but there wasn't any heat behind it. It was actually kind of nice, having someone else in this castle that he could call a friend, after all.

"The sooner we go, the better. He's pulled nearly all of the fel energy back to the Dark Portal. He could act any day," he added after a few moments, nervous anticipation turning his stomach a little. He'd felt a sliver of Gul'dan's power while shutting down the single rune–he knew they would have to be careful.

He didn't feel anywhere near ready to take on Gul'dan face to face. He needed to figure out the spell, and then figure out a way to counter it without direct confrontation.

#

Anduin assessed his own battle-readiness before responding –he had been traveling for a day straight, but any fighting he had done had been well over three days ago. It wasn't that he was exhausted, per se, but he could sleep. 

He wasn't as young as he used to be, he thought wryly. 

Also, Mustard there was giving him a _look_. Before he was Khadgar's guard, he had been well and used to Anduin himself. He cocked his head and gave the man a little, innocent smile that made the guard blanch. 

He couldn't leave anything up to chance, he decided finally. This was too important. Yes, he had fought a golem, lost his shoes, and taken out the Horde's largest general in a few hours' time, but grief had made him beserk and he had had no small amount of luck. If he were to get in close enough to Gul'dan and have the opportunity, he would have to be at his best or he would be without his life-force in a heartbeat. 

"Would a few hours make a difference?" He asked finally, gesturing to his dented armor and less to the blood matted in his hair, but it was still there.

Mustard – _ah, Dion, you unfortunate bastard, I like this nickname –_ was showering them both with glares. His face had been one of the reasons he'd assigned him to Khadgar, actually, that glare could freeze a Naga.

#

"I need a few hours myself," Khadgar admitted reluctantly, moving to stand up, his guard immediately reaching to help. He looked over the books he'd been working on with a frown. "I should try and sleep a few hours. That's a long distance to port."

He wasn't on the same wavelength as Anduin, that was for sure. He was mentally and physically planning for a get in, get close to camp, figure out what Gul'dan was doing, and then get back out type of scenario; he had no interest in a suicide mission. And he knew that's what it would be, if they were caught.

He'd only had luck against that small group of Orcs earlier because he had the advantage of surprising them. He might be the Guardian now, but the idea of him taking on the main Orc camp plus the warlock leading them was...laughable.

"I'll meet you in the courtyard at sundown," he said to Anduin, giving the warrior a weak smile before he left.

Dion continued to glare at Anduin, obviously biting his tongue on whatever he wanted to say. 

  
#

"What's it to you, Mustard?" Anduin said, but it wasn't as effective as it should have been since he fled to his rooms under that _look_ before the guard could actually speak his mind.

–––

Anduin's page had brought back his newly-repaired armor from the barracks, and he finished strapping it on as he approached Khadgar in the courtyard. He wished he could bring Gnollbelly with them, but he didn't want to risk her life as well as Khadgar's.

_There would be no risk,_ he reminded himself. Or at least, not a lot. The mage could port out. He was sure he'd done a good enough job pushing Khadgar away; between Dion's glares and the way Khadgar couldn't meet his eyes he was sure his mind would be on the safety of Azeroth as he examined the runes, and not on whatever Anduin got up to while he was distracted by the arcane and the fel. He would be too busy _pretending_ to ignore Anduin.

So all he had to do was get close to Gul'dan without his gryphon.

He considered briefly sending her on ahead, but that too was an idiotic notion, as it would only alert the Orcs to their presence.

He tugged the last strap on his breastplate tighter and went to stand in front of Khadgar. He couldn't help the look in his eyes; he wished desperately that the mage wasn't going. He couldn't defeat a demon by himself, though. He hadn't done so before, and he wouldn't be able to now, not without some other, more important distraction.

Leaving Gul'dan to live was also no longer an option. His people were getting wiped out from existence, and after the Orcs were done with the humans they'd spread like a pestilence to the rest of the world. And to let Demons corrupt these light–filled lands...

...and then there was Taria, and young Varian and his sister. Darkshire was too close to Stormwind's borders. Sentinel was standing, but it couldn't hold forever, and once that fell Goldshire would fall too. He couldn't let that happen. His hand had been forced. He had to strike now, while Khadgar said he was weakened and distracted. He'd get no other chance.

"For Azeroth," Anduin murmured, and nodded his readiness.

#

Khadgar had on his traveling clothes and cloak, and Atiesh gripped tightly in his hand; he was nervous, no doubt about it.

But all they had to do was get in and get back out unseen. Once he got close enough, he should be able to feel the effects of the spell Gul'dan was using, and then he could port them back to make plans for a solid counterattack.

He was trying to hope for the best and plan for the worst. He had to be ready to port them out at a moment's notice.

He gave Anduin a concerned look as he approached; the man walked like he was going to a funeral. It wasn't like him for a simple reconnaissance mission.

Maybe he was still reluctant to be around Khadgar. The thought hurt, that he was getting pushed away because Anduin didn't want him getting hurt.

Joke was on him; he was already hurting Khadgar.

"Don't use your battle cry just yet. If all goes well, you won't have to swing your sword," Khadgar pointed out, swinging Atiesh in a low circle, creating the edges of the portal. He drew up the energy into his fist and waited for Anduin to step into the circle.

"I'll get us as close as is safe," he said, eyes glowing as he focused on the energy he remembered from the area around the camp–and then he said a quick spell and released the energy with a flourish. 

#

Anduin stepped forward, feeling the small, untruthful turn of his own lips.

Stormwind disappeared around them; the smell of smoke hitting his nostrils before the sound of clanking war machines and armor and distant yelling. They dropped onto dusty ground, Khadgar gracefully, Anduin stumbling to one side. He used it to fall into a roll, assessing that the area was clear except for two Orcs. He dispatched one of them from behind –the brutes hadn't seen them yet –and was involved in a small scuffle before he was able to take the other one out with a sword to the knee and then the neck.

He nodded at Khadgar. "Do what you have to," he said. "How long will this take?"

#

Khadgar had to bite his tongue to keep from casting at the two Orcs the moment he saw them; his magic wasn't exactly subtle. It would give them away in an instant. He left them to Anduin and his sword, and they were dispatched quickly.

Which was unfairly attractive on Anduin's part, really.

He could already feel the energy in the air, the gathering of the fel. He frowned and took a moment to steady himself before he looked up at Anduin again.

"It shouldn't take long," he said, looking toward the camp. "There's...so much energy here. I'll just get a little closer and see if he has any runes set up. If he does, I can at least see if I can remember them from my research."

He started to quietly, slowly move toward the camp–though not without the memory of the last time he'd done this haunting his mind. That time, Durotan had handily caught them all off guard.

It couldn't happen this time; none of these Orcs were on their side. 

#

Anduin moved with him, his keen warrior's eyes assessing all sides for threats. He had to dispatch one more Orc, but their journey forward was blessedly clear, as if the land itself wanted the Orcs and their fel magic purged and the Light was blessing them.

He waited until he was sure the area was free of any threats to Khadgar, and then moments more for the mage to become thoroughly distracted by whatever he was casting. Feeling on instinct that if he left things to progress, Khadgar would become endangered, his magic opening him up to be found by Gul'dan, he braced himself.

It was now or never.

He took off through what underbrush was left from the Orc's devastation, and weaved his way around the outskirts of their camp, killing when he needed to swiftly and surely. They had no fear of threat, these Orcs, he was disgusted to find. No one was watching the edges. They thought they were too powerful, here against the gate.

Their overestimation of their fortitude would be their downfall.

As he got closer, he saw what looked like green mist rising from the front.

"Mak'gora," Anduin tried the unfamiliar word out on his lips. It's what the Orcs had cried at him after he had slain Blackhand. If he couldn't attack Gul'dan unawares, he would have to invoke their custom and hope that it was honored. He couldn't take on an army this size by himself; he wasn't even sure he could take on twenty Orcs by himself. At least not all at once. If he gave Gul'dan any chance whatsoever to prepare, he would be dead before he could even speak, his soul sucked from his body.

"Not a good pep talk, Lothar," he muttered to himself.

When finally he reached the front, crouched between a stack of crates and a tent and only a stone's throw from Gul'dan, he saw her.

Garona.

Standing by that demon's side, as if she belonged there.

Anduin's grip tightened on his sword. _She did,_ he reminded himself. _She did belong there._ Traitor. King–killer.

Friend–killer.

It took all he had not to forget his mission and launch himself at her instead, claiming her head for Llane's death.

It was a long, heart–stopping moment when he realized she was looking straight back at him.

She turned to Gul'dan. Anduin forgot to breathe.

And then, impossibly, she left, heading toward the back of the camp.

There was roaring in his ears.

_Could Khadgar have been right?_ Was it possible? Could she have done this not as a betrayal, but as a sacrifice?

_Or it was coincidence,_ he told himself. He only thought she had stared directly into his soul.

Gul'dan was moving into his tent. Anduin darted forward, took out one of the guards by drawing him around to the back, away from the eyes of the army. He did the same to the other.

That left Gul'dan himself.

His heart was beating in his ears.

If he did this, Azeroth would be safe. Everyone he loved would be safe. If he died for this, it would be an honor.

He would really prefer not to, of course.

Gripping his sword, he made a careful incision in the base of the tent and peered through.

The whole thing was filled with fel, like a glowing cesspool. Gul'dan was seated, his eyes closed.

Now was his chance.

He silently cut a hole big enough for him to slip inside. His grip tightened, and he lunged.

At the very last moment, Gul'dan's eyes sprung open wildly, and he made an impossibly fast turn to avoid the blow to his heart. It sunk into his left arm instead, and he let out a blood–curdling howl.

_Get out of there!_ Anduin's mind screamed. _Get out of there now!_ He went in for another strike instead.

#

Khadgar was trying to cast a scrying spell to get a better handle on the spell Gul'dan was using when he realized that he was suddenly alone. He looked around in a panic, trying to see Lothar through the thick underbrush, to no avail.

He bit his lip against the instinct to call out for him; had he been found? But surely they couldn't have found Lothar and completely missed the mage right beside him.

Then, someone grabbed his shoulder.

He yanked away and started to cast, but a hand clamped over his mouth–a feminine, small, but strong hand–and he found himself looking right at Garona.

There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but he didn't get the chance. 

"Khadgar, you need to leave, now. It's a trap," she said insistently as her hand lowered from his mouth, and Khadgar's heart dropped.

"Where is Lothar?"

"Where do you think?" she asked, giving him a look and a glance toward the main tent–and his eyes widened and his mouth went dry.

"No!" he snapped, and then he pulled away from her and took off right for the camp. She tried to stop him, but he was already ducking amongst the tents on the outer edges.

Not for long, though. The alarm went up, and he saw no need for subtlety. 

He gathered his energy and cast a massive pyroblast at the nearest tent, dodging an axe that swung just over his head, and sending a set of arcane missiles at the Orc that held it. He was running on pure adrenaline, on the fact that Anduin was after Gul'dan and Khadgar was too far away to help yet. 

He made it to the main clearing, taking out a few more Orcs along the way–but even he knew he shouldn't have made it this far. These Orcs weren't actually trying to kill him. He skidded to a stop just in front of a bright rune on the ground–and then, recognizing the shapes, it suddenly hit him.

It was a binding rune for channeling. 

Gul'dan suddenly emerged from the main tent, grasping one arm bloodied green–it was the first time Khadgar had actually seen him, at least up close, and he could feel the fel coming off him in sickening waves. Khadgar started to ready a spell, but then Gul'dan reached out, and Khadgar felt his body being yanked forward–right into the rune. 

It was like a heavy blanket being thrown over his own magic, like those binding cuffs times ten. He very nearly gagged, landing on his hands and knees in the glowing dirt.

"Garona!" Gul'dan yelled, stepping away from the tent entrance, hand still outstretched toward Khadgar–and Khadgar realized that he was waiting for a translator.

All Khadgar wanted to know was if Anduin was okay, himself be damned.

#

In the tent, Anduin slowly came to. He shot straight up after one blink at the green light surrounding him.

His sword had been left by his hand.

Gul'dan had picked him up and thrown him, and then, impossibly, _fought_ him. He hadn't planned on the demon being more than just a sorcerer.

He had underestimated him.

And somehow, he was still alive. He felt whole. He didn't feel like any pieces of his life–force were missing.

_But how would he know?_ He asked himself in a slight panic. _And where the fel was Gul'dan?_

He heard Garona's name shouted in a gutteral, sickening voice, and his blood ran cold.

_He had found her out,_ was his first thought.

Then, worse, was _she had gone to get Khadgar, the true threat to the fel, while he was occupied with Gul'dan, who obviously did not feel he was enough of a threat to even warrant guarding._

His voice was right outside the tent, though. There was still a chance. Maybe he hadn't thought Anduin could recover so quickly.

Dragging himself to his feet, and bouncing out the stiffness in his limbs, he crept to the flap.

_Khadgar._

The mage was being held, somehow, by the fel. Terror coursed through his veins. _He was supposed to have ported out..._

He almost vomited, then, as his realized their error. _They had been expecting them. This was a trap._

Anduin let out a roar, hoping to distract Gul'dan enough at least to let Khadgar get away, and threw himself toward the forbidding horned back.

Without turning, the sorcerer grabbed him by his throat. Anduin struggled midair, his feet off the ground. He hit at the knuckles with his sword, but the blows went unacknowledged. He wasn't close enough to stab him. When he made to slash his arm, he was thrown viciously to the ground. Two Orcs stepped forward and restrained him before he had a chance to recover.

"Garona!" Gul'dan shouted again.

#

Garona stepped into the clearing, her face determined but expression laced with dread. She looked between Khadgar and Lothar, her chin held high, but obviously conflicted. 

"Tell them what I am saying," Gul'dan demanded, and then he began speaking in Orcish, waiting for her to translate between sentences.

"He knew you would come," she said, her hands tightening into fists at her sides. "The spell was bait, and you followed it. He's been impressed with the mage, and he has an offer."

She paused as Gul'dan smiled broadly, and then continued. "Not an offer. A demand," she said, her voice softer. "All the fel that's been gathered will be...gifted to the new Guardian, so he might take down the Alliance himself."

Khadgar's blood ran cold. "No," he choked out, eyes flaring blue for only a moment before the strain was too much. He cried out in pain, fingers digging into the dirt as Gul'dan chuckled.

He called out orders that Garona didn't need to translate–the two Orcs holding Anduin dragged him to the edge of the circle, allowing him to keep his sword in hand. Gul'dan spoke again, and Garona's voice trembled as she translated the words.

"Because Orcs...value an honorable death, Commander, you have the option of giving the Guardian that honor...before he kills you."

Khadgar was trembling violently; he could feel the pathways in the rune below him, and he knew once they opened, he would have no chance. He could already feel the fel pressing in on him, searing at the edges of his energy, and he looked up at Lothar in desperation.

Either way they played this game, they were going to lose.

"Please," he begged as Gul'dan's hands started to glow a bright, sickening green. "I don't want to hurt you, Anduin. _Don't let me hurt you._ "

He could have any number of reasons, knowing the damage he could do if forced to take on the fel–but all he could think about was that he didn't want the last thing he ever did with his own hands to be hurting the man he was in love with. 

And it _would_ be the last thing, because fel or no fel, he wouldn't be able to live with himself. He would find a way to end it. 

"Anduin, I'm begging you. _I love you_ ," he choked out. He had nothing left to lose; he knew he would be dead soon anyway. "I would rather die than be used like this. I would rather you do it than the fel."

Garona was the only one who could understand what he was saying, and she stared in shock–but only for a moment. Unable to stand by any longer, she glanced to make sure Gul'dan was distracted by his gloating, and then she slipped away.

She couldn't let her friends die like this. She would risk everything to get them out alive. 

#

The blood was a roar in his ears now.

They had walked right into this, he and Khadgar, together.

He had _let_ them walk right into this.

Khadgar had been forced to the ground, and his eyes were dark pools when they looked up at Anduin. He was begging him.

How dare they make Khadgar beg for anything.

How dare Gul'dan touch the guardian.

But Khadgar wasn't begging with them, he was begging with Anduin, now, and what he was asking was as clear as shards of glass.

_He was asking him to kill him._

_You did this. You brought this on him. You should have been protecting him, and instead, you were arrogant enough to think you could take on Gul'dan on your own._

_Light, Khadgar._ It was almost a physical pain to watch Khadgar's suffering. This had been his worst fear–that he would be taken over by the fel, that Anduin himself would kill him. The demon in the tower would never have said as much otherwise.

Anduin's eyes stung as he listened dully to Garona's trembling voice as she translated for Gul'dan.

When she stopped speaking, only Khadgar's voice was left.

_I love you._ After doing this to him, that was what Khadgar said. _I love you._

The noise of the Orcs faded around him, focusing to the point of Khadgar's voice.

_I love you,_ the words took over his mind, but didn't make it to his lips.

His voice was strangled and broken when he spoke. "You're going to have to fight me, spell-chucker," he choked out. " _Please,_ Khadgar. Fight. Fight me." He turned his head toward Gul'dan. "I demand you let him fight me!"

His whole body was shaking. He didn't know how he could do this.

He turned back to Khadgar. "Khadgar. You have to do this.  You _can_ do this. Focus on me, not on them. It will be like sparring."

The lie was dust on his tongue. He added a truth: "Either we fight or we die. _Please._ Don't let him do this to you. Don't give up. _"_

But maybe, maybe if they kept each other alive long enough, maybe there would be chance to escape this nightmare.

Or maybe they would die together.

#

Khadgar's eyes widened. "No, Anduin, I can't–" he started, but the words cut off as his whole body jerked.

Gul'dan's fist closed, and the pathways opened.

If the rush of fel into him back at Karazhan had been a river, then this was a _flood_. Both his body and his magic seized up at the massive influx, and he _screamed_.

His eyes lit up with the bright green glow of the fel, and he felt familiar laughter in the back of his mind. _Hello again, little mage_ , the demon said, and Khadgar sobbed at the feeling of that demon once again reaching into his mind, overloading it with his mere presence.

He couldn't do this. The fel was intoxicating, trying to drag him under, and even if he didn't give in, it would overwhelm him soon enough.

"Yes, you feel it, don't you? Your warrior thought he could best me," Gul'dan said, and Khadgar realized that he could understand him now, could understand Orcish, flooded with the fel knowledge as he was. "He dragged you to your doom, mage. Perhaps he wanted to see you suffer so. Perhaps he knows his new Guardian can't resist the fel."

"No, no, _no_ ," Khadgar moaned out, gasping for air but feeling like he was only dragging thick, acrid smoke into his lungs.

He felt a strange, grating sensation on his head, and it took a moment and a glance at his hands to realize what was happening. 

Claws, and horns. The demon was fighting him down. He was losing, badly. He felt like his body was breaking apart, his soul being set aflame.

"Anduin, _please_ ," he pleaded, eyes shifting rapidly between vibrant green and hints of blue. He couldn't keep this up; he was being _torn apart_.

Garona ran to the back of camp, where three runes sat glowing, funneling the spell into the main rune. Destroying a rune would be too obvious; she looked around until she saw a tree, killed by the fel, leaning precariously over one of the three runes.

One good shove and it would fall–and if it did, that rune would break.

Maybe Khadgar would have a fighting chance.

#

The two Orcs holding Anduin shoved him forward and cowered behind him, trying to make it look as if they were simply offering him up to the fight. He hissed at them over his shoulder and stared in horror as not only did green light begin to take over Khadgar's clear blue, but his very form started to shift shape. It was like watching Medivh transform into the demon all over again, except where that had taken perhaps an hour this was taking mere minutes.

He forced his hand to stop shaking around his sword.

He could not do this.

He could not kill Khadgar, demon or not.

Even after his transformation, Medivh had turned back to himself, he remembered. No matter what Khadgar might look like...

_Tell him that, you fool!_ Anduin screamed at himself.

"Khadgar! Khadgar. Medivh was still inside. Do you remember? After he fell. He turned back to himself. I know you're stronger than this. I know you can fight this demon from within."

Horns kept lengthening and shortening on Khadgar's scalp, but eventually they formed fully and remained.

"Don't make me do this," Anduin choked.

#

"He can't save you. He was the very one to hand you over to this," Gul'dan said, but Khadgar shook his head. No, Anduin hadn't done this on purpose; he hadn't meant to. He wouldn't put Khadgar in harm's way on purpose.

The blue light faded entirely, and he felt the energy gathering; he did the only thing he could think of to do. With one last push against the demon's power, he reached up and shielded Anduin.

It wasn't stable or strong; it flickered in and out and faded, and Khadgar fought against a fresh wave of indignant anger from the demon at his refusal to give in. It was only a few moments before it faded entirely, despite his efforts, and helplessness set in like a shroud. 

"Anduin," he said, his whole body shaking with the effort to keep from losing that last shred of control. He couldn't hurt Anduin. He wouldn't. 

"I c-can't fight him, please, Anduin... _do it_."

\---

Garona pushed at the tree, and with a loud creak, it fell over and landed right across the rune. The green glow of that rune flickered and went out, and the glow of the rest faded just a bit–including the one Khadgar was trapped in.

\---

Gul'dan noticed immediately, and roared in indignation. "What are you doing?" he yelled, assuming the interference had come from Khadgar. Khadgar, meanwhile, felt the weakening–but at the same time, his own energy was wiped out. He had nothing left to give.

If he wanted to take this opportunity, he would have to use the fel.

The thought made him sick to his stomach, but it was the only way he and Anduin were going to get out of this alive.

This time when he shielded Anduin, the shield was strong–but it was a bright, vivid green. Gul'dan immediately started gathering energy to cast, but his attack was only absorbed.

_Stay focused. Don't give in. Use it as a weapon, but don't let it take over._

_#_

Anduin remained rooted in place, his arms open at his sides, not willing to do what Khadgar was asking but also not stupid enough not to leave himself open in case he needed to fight. His heart soared when he saw the familiar blast of blue envelop him, but it was faint and flickering like a dying candle. It sputtered out completely far too soon.

He knew already Khadgar's plaintive voice was going to haunt his nightmares.

He was never going to forgive himself for this.

Then, suddenly, another shield went up around him, but it was made from the fel. Horror set into his heart.

"What have you done?" He asked Khadgar in a terrified whisper.

His mind raced. Khadgar was glowing green instead of blue; but Khadgar had also shielded him. That meant the mage's mind was still in there, somewhere, because he doubted the demon cared for his life. That meant he was still fighting, despite whatever he had just done.

_He couldn't let Khadgar use any more of the fel._ He didn't know what would happen if he did, but anything that cursed magic touched it destroyed, and it was already too much a part of Khadgar if he was using it in place of his own magic.

_Let Gul'dan think he'd won,_ Anduin realized. Like he had done in the tower, with the entity who'd tried attacking Khadgar. Perhaps he'd be too smart to believe the lie, but perhaps too he was so sure of victory that he wouldn't think twice about Anduin's sudden capitulation.

What choice did he have?

"All right," he called, his voice like splintering wood. "All right. _I'm sorry, Khadgar."_ The apology was real. Gul'dan would not hear any falsehood in his tone.

He raised his sword over his head, as if to prepare for a death strike.

_He would never get this image out of his mind for as long as he was cursed to live._

Then in one fluid motion, green energy still glowing around him, he brought it around in arch to gain momentum and threw it, sure as an arrow, toward Gul'dan.

The sorcerer stumbled, shrieking and clawing at his throat as the sword lodged itself into his breastbone.

Without hesitation, he followed it, preparing to yank it out and deal a death blow.

#

Khadgar never thought he would feel relief at the prospect of his death; but as Anduin lifted his sword up to deal the death blow, Khadgar only lowered his head to make it easier for it to strike true. 

So he was surprised when the sword came down on someone else instead of him. 

But as he lifted his head and saw Gul'dan preparing to strike back with a spell, he knew Anduin wouldn't survive it. He would have to use the fel again, as sick as it made him feel. He forced himself to his feet, trying to ignore the claws, the feeling of horns curving out of his skull, of spikes from his shoulders tugging at his cloak. 

When Gul'dan unleashed his spell, Khadgar broke out of the runic circle, yanked Anduin out of the way, and reflected the spell back into Gul'dan.

Other Orcs immediately moved in to attack, but Khadgar held up one hand and took hold of the fel inside the Orcs, and they froze in place, struggling to breathe, let alone move.

_Yes, use it to protect your friends. Feel its strength. That's how it begins_ , the demon whispered, and Khadgar faltered.

They needed to get out of here, before he lost himself entirely. While Gul'dan was still stunned. 

"I'm going to port us," Khadgar said to Anduin, though his voice was not entirely his own. "If I'm still influenced by the fel on the other side...kill me. _Quickly_."

#

Anduin barely managed to tear his sword free when he was pressed backward suddenly into Khadgar's chest. It was a strange sensation–the only other times he'd been held from the back by the mage was when they were riding on a gryphon. But now, with the fel influencing him, Khadgar felt larger, stronger, _alien._ His voice was even a mixture of demon and Khadgar himself.

Sick to his stomach, he watched Gul'dan from beyond a film of green light.

"Get us out of here and don't port us to Stormwind," Anduin begged. Not so near his sister and the Prince. Not in the heart of his people.

Around them, the Orcs were raising a battle cry, and any minute he and the mage would be cut down if they lingered.

He found himself hoping that Garona had kept herself safe among them.

The hands on his arms held the trace of claws. It was a blend of fear, despair, and a breaking heart that made him tremble.

"And _fight it,_ " he said. " _Fight it._ And get us out of here! _"_

_#_

Khadgar took in a deep breath against the onslaught of both the fel and the demon–but tasted only thick, choking smoke. Of course he needed to port them away from others–so that if the fel did take him, he wouldn't hurt anyone.

So if Anduin had to kill him, the scene wouldn't have to weigh on anyone else's mind.

He drew together his energy, focused, and the port happened in an instant.

They landed somewhere in the forests deep in Elwynn, far away from people, and Khadgar immediately started to fight back against the hold of the fel on him. It was minutely easier here, not surrounded by its influence, not in any immediate danger–but it was still like trying to swim through a bog.

He dropped to his hands and knees, every nerve seeming to be firing only _pain_ as he tried to grasp at what little arcane energy hadn't been expended.

It wasn't enough. He wasn't sure he could do this. 

"Anduin," he sobbed, the horns beginning to crack, the claws beginning to recede, but so slowly. He felt like his soul was being dragged across jagged rocks, like his body was burning up from the inside out.

#

Anduin threw down his sword and spun into a crouch beside Khadgar. The mage's face was contorted in pain and fear, features familiar despite the demonic growths marring him.

Without hesitating, Anduin drew Khadgar into his arms, drawing him close. "You can do this," he whispered like a mantra. "I'm here. You can do this."

He pulled them both over to the base of a large tree and settled back against it, cradling Khadgar in his lap. He rubbed his back as he spasmed.

"I'm sorry," he said. He wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for. He was sorry Khadgar was suffering.  He was sorry he had let Khadgar go to Gul'dan in the first place. He was sorry he couldn't protect him.

"Don't give in," he whispered. "I can't lose you too."

Around them, birds chirped, and he could hear the sound of a stream bubbling nearby, as if something horrific weren't happening in the forest's midst.

Anduin's cheeks were wet. He stared down at Khadgar's distressed face as he rocked them both. "Light, Khadgar. I love you."

#

Khadgar hadn't expected Anduin to even want to come near him when he was like this–so needless to say, he was unprepared for the moment when he was suddenly pulled against Anduin's chest and held tightly. He clung to the warrior like a lifeline, exhausted in body and soul, but still fighting.

_You used the fel as a weapon. You're no better than those you've fought against_ , the demon whispered, and Khadgar shuddered, his grip tightening on Anduin.

_I had to. I had to do it. He would have died._

He tried to focus on Anduin's voice instead of the demon's, despite the knowledge that if he just quit fighting, all the pain would stop. It was tempting, so tempting, and he was _so_ tired–

And then he heard Anduin say _I love you_ , and suddenly, giving in just wasn't an option anymore.

A weak, blue light flared to life in his eyes in the midst of all the green, and the claws, spikes, and horns began to quickly crumble away. He could feel the fel falling away from him, drawing back into the network it came from, and when he felt the last of it leave him, he severed the connection fast enough to make his eyes pulse blue–with no hint of green left to be seen.

He sagged against Anduin then, trembling all over, his whole body aching and his mind no longer able to focus. He felt like lifting a finger would be the equivalent of running to Stranglethorn and back. "M'sorry," he said, the words slurred together as his eyes started to fall shut.

He only hoped he could be forgiven for what he had to do to save them.

#

Anduin lifted his hands as the demonic debris fell away from Khadgar's body, but after quickly and disgustedly brushing them both off he tugged Khadgar into his arms again. 

He had seen a flicker of blue in those eyes before he mumbled out an apology. It was like seeing the sun after a tempest, and it was so like Khadgar to apologize after saving them both that Anduin smiled despite the trauma. He relaxed against the tree, looking out at the woods but not really seeing them. He tucked Khadgar's cloak more tightly around his body. 

When he was sure Khadgar was asleep by the gentle rise and fall of his chest, he spoke. "I was so sure I could protect you by not letting you get closer to me."

He brushed damp tendrils of hair away from Khadgar's forehead. "I was so sure you could do better. I am an old, widowed warrior, and you have all the power of the world at your fingertips. I am a temporary king; you are lord of Azeroth itself."

Anduin knew he was just babbling at that point, but he had to stay awake, and if he had to listen to the sound of his own voice he'd do so. 

"I am so proud of you," he murmured. "You were such a nuisance when we met, and so naive, and I was worried for you. Looking to others for their approval can be dangerous. I didn't like the way you looked at me back then. I felt as though I would fail you. I felt as though you would die if you didn't toughen up.”

Anduin closed his eyes, briefly, letting the sweet forest breeze brush over his face. He gave a quiet laugh. "How wrong I was. You've saved my life again. I am still not used to that. It is my job to protect. You make me feel at a loss around you."

He looked down at the mage's resting face. Threading his fingers into his hair, he began to make soothing motions with his fingertips on his scalp. 

"I'm sorry if I've failed you," he murmured, and settled in to wait.

#

Khadgar was so exhausted that he didn't have nightmares–or even dream at all–as he slept. Instead he slept as the dead, completely out until his body finally began to bounce back. 

He didn't remember where he was at first. All he knew was that he was warm, and someone was holding him, and his whole body was aching horribly. It took a while for him to actually begin to remember, and when he did, he stiffened.

Gul'dan. The trap. The fel overtaking him.

He'd _used_ the fel.

He forced his eyes open and immediately groaned at the spike of pain through his head; he wasn't surprised that he hurt all over. In fact, he was surprised that he was alive at all, that he'd been able to fight off the fel–then he remembered Anduin's words, pulling him back from the brink. He opened his eyes again, slower this time, and though he couldn't see for himself, he knew that his eyes were their usual brown color. He could feel no trace of the fel anymore.

"Anduin...?" he said softly, as if this was actually a dream, and he'd be waking up in the embrace of the fel any moment now, or in a cage at the Orc camp.

#

Khadgar tensed in his arms, and alerted Anduin that the mage was finally waking up. He was unsure he'd heard anything he'd said to him since coming to Elwynn Forest, but at least he knew now for sure that he hadn't been worried about Khadgar's feelings toward him, which meant he could be sure that his touch at least wasn't unwanted. He tightened the arm he had around the mage's shoulders.

"I'm here," he said, looking down at his clear, warm brown eyes with relief.  "It's just Elwynn Forest. We're safe for now."

#

Khadgar nodded once, still drifting a little; he was so tired, nearly as much as when he'd been in a coma for a week. When he reached to the arcane inside of him, it felt nearly entirely depleted.

And it was no wonder, after everything that had happened. 

"I...I used the fel," he said, looking a bit ill as he remembered the feeling. "Light, I...I shouldn't have, it...how am I any better than Medivh, turning to that...?"

Had he really had no other choice? No strength left in the arcane? He hadn't just used it as a shield, he'd attacked those Orcs with it, used their own fel nature against them. Probably killed a few, at least, since he had no practice in fel magics before that moment.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his fists clenching in the cloth of Anduin's shirt.

#

"You're better, because you beat it," Anduin replied easily, a frown creasing his forehead. "Stop thinking, for once."

His eyes scanned Khadgar's guilt-ridden features. "And Light, Khadgar. Please for the love of everything that's still good in this world stop apologizing to me. I was the one who almost killed us with his arrogance." He shook his head. He wanted to continue with his own confessions, but he was serious –they had almost died, and now was not the time. 

"Just rest. I thought I'd lost you."

#

It was comforting to hear Anduin say it–even if he knew he would have trouble convincing himself of it–and Khadgar relaxed against Anduin's chest again. He wondered briefly if this was a one time thing, a brush with death sort of exception...

He really, really hoped not, because he could get used to this. He didn't really want to move anytime soon; he just wanted to stay right here and forget the world. 

But first...

"Garona...she tried to warn me that it was a trap. She told me to run," he said softly. The whole 'I came after you instead of running away' went unspoken; Khadgar had already established once before that leaving Anduin to his death wasn't an option he'd ever consider, fel or no fel. 

"And it...wasn't arrogance. You were just trying to protect your people," he added, the words heavy with exhaustion. At least, he was fairly certain that was the motive; take out Gul'dan directly before he could stage another attack. 

#

"She looked right at me," Anduin said with a hint of wonder. "When I was close to Gul'dan. She left so I could attack." He shook his head and added softly, "You were right about her. I just couldn't believe she could kill Llane and still..."

He drew in a sharp breath, cutting himself off.

"I was trying to protect you," he corrected softly. "I thought if I attacked, it would take his attention away from what you were doing with the fel." He laughed humorlessly. "And yes, I thought that if I had a chance to end this war, to end all this suffering, I should take it."

#

Khadgar was glad his intuition had been right for once. He'd felt all along that there was something more to what happened on that battlefield between King Llane and Garona, and now he had what he considered proof–if she had truly turned against them, she'd had the opportunity to make sure both he and Anduin ended up dead, and she'd done anything but.

He wondered if Anduin was going to tell Taria about Garona. If he was going to tell her about any of this, really. She would be furious, but Khadgar felt like she should know Garona hadn't turned on them; but it wasn't his place to tell her.

He would let Anduin make that decision.

He looked up at Anduin with a mix of shock and yes, anger, at his next words. "You went after an Orc warlock with a _sword_ to protect me?" he asked with a laugh of disbelief, and then he smacked Anduin on the shoulder–though there was no strength behind it. "You unbelievable _ass_. And you tell _me_ not to run off and do things on my own. _Honestly_.

#

"Because I'm not a bookworm," Anduin said with a smile. "And you had him distracted." He sobered.  "It was the only shot I had."

The 'and I failed' was implied.

Anduin let his head fall back against the tree. 

Khadgar was a warm, comforting weight against his side. It was hard for him to reconcile with how unused he was to showing and accepting affection.

#

"Tell you what," Khadgar said softly. "You leave the magic users to me, and I'll defer to you when some giant oaf is swinging an axe at my head. Deal?"

Khadgar was enjoying the moment while he could. He was half afraid he would wake up and this whole moment would have been a dream, and Anduin would be back to avoiding him, trying to give him the cold shoulder. He'd never been this close to anyone–in any way, really–and though he wouldn't admit it out loud, yeah, he was probably a bit touch-starved. 

He nuzzled in even closer, tucking his head under Anduin's chin and letting his eyes fall shut again, just for a few moments. He felt like he could sleep for a week and still not be caught up on it.

#

Anduin blinked down at the younger man's head, surprised by how physical Khadgar was turning out to be. The mage had always been fiercely independent, reluctant to follow orders and even requests, so in his mind he'd also imagined him being standoffish with physical affection as well.

"I never thought you'd be a cuddler, spell-chucker," he said. 

Anduin let his chin settle in Khadgar's soft hair, though, and he rubbed a hand absentmindedly along his arm.

#

Khadgar felt his cheeks heat up a little, but he chuckled softly. "Didn't think I would be, either," he said, soft enough that it almost seemed like he was just talking to himself. After all, it wasn't like he'd had the opportunity to find out before.

Anduin was making him learn a lot of new things about himself.

He heard the flutter of wings and opened his eyes again to a bird on the ground nearby, pecking at the dirt for bugs. He felt something catch in his chest, and he lifted one trembling hand toward it. 

" _Shivalar_ ," he said, and he could feel the wave of relief when the magic and runes around his hand lit up blue, with no hint of sickly green. The poor bird, meanwhile, was now a rabbit flailing around trying to take flight without wings. He dropped his hand back to Anduin's chest, the glow quickly fading.

_Thank the Light,_ he thought. He didn't know what he would have done if his magic still showed signs of contamination.

#

"And what did that poor bird ever do to you?" Anduin asked, amused despite knowing the anxiety that surely caused Khadgar to do magic when he was already worn out. 

He bent over until his lips barely touched the shell of Khadgar's ear. "I only saw blue, spell-chucker."

#

"I just...had to be sure," Khadgar said, though he shivered at the sudden closeness, the barely-there touch. He tried to cover it up as just shifting his weight, though, because he could _feel_ the teasing already based on that little tidbit.

"Haven't done that in years. Polymorphed some poor critter, I mean," he said with the ghost of a smile, watching the very indignant rabbit-bird, but focusing more on the comforting rise and fall of Anduin's chest under his hand.

#

"Yes, you used to harass the wildlife at the Kirin Tor, didn't you?" Anduin lowered his chin to Khadgar's shoulder instead of putting it back on his head, letting their beards tickle each other's cheeks. Khadgar's skin was soft under the dusting of hair. 

It was strange, how being away from the city and the castle relaxed him enough to push the boundaries of his reservations regarding the mage. Out here, with no eyes on him and no expectations, away from the war and all other worries, he felt like he could just be a man again. Not a king, not a warrior, not a brother. "You're going to have a legion of very angry sheep after you one of these days."

And then, of course, was the sheer relief from having Khadgar alive and no longer covered with demon horns. So help him if he wanted to feel the comforting beat of his heart.

#

"I wasn't the only one. It was safer than practicing on each other," Khadgar muttered, though he was smiling. "Poor Altreck was trying to eat handfuls of hay for a week. Made it hard to concentrate in class."

With a quick wave of his hand, the rabbit turned back into a bird, which warbled and stumbled around before taking to the air. He lowered his hand again, breathing in time with Anduin. "That's why I have you to protect me, right? And teach me self defense?" he joked, turning his head to meet Anduin's gaze with an impish smile and a raised eyebrow. "To defend myself from rampaging farm animals. I mean, obviously."

There were so many things he wanted to say right now. _Did you really mean it? Are you going to turn around and leave again in the name of 'protecting me'? Would this be some kind of clandestine fling, or more?_

He didn't say any of it. There was too much _right_ about this moment to ruin it.

#

"Right, I'm the one protecting you," Anduin said under his breath with rolled eyes and a half-smile. "It's good you think of it that way." 

Khadgar's lips were less than an inch from his own, and he was hyper-aware of that fact. The way the younger man was looking at him was an invitation for all sorts of trouble.

Not too long ago, though, Khadgar had been begging him to kill him. He shook his head without realizing it to clear it of unwanted thoughts. 

Experimentally, he tilted his lips closer to Khadgar's, curiosity and a slight challenge in his eyes. "But about the sheep. As regent I have to be fair. I would have to hear their side of the story before defending you."

#

"Need I remind you that you kept me from being pulverized by a couple of morons last week? And that time you distracted an entire camp full of Orcs so I could cast a counterspell? Or I don't know, the time you talked your way out of a bunch of angry Dwarves letting me die of mana poisoning? Don't sell yourself short," Khadgar pointed out with a bright smile. Really, Anduin was too hard on himself; anyone would say so.

His breathing hitched as he realized just how close they were–and that Anduin had seemingly deliberately made them closer–and all of a sudden the unsteady feeling in his stomach wasn't from mana deprivation or exhaustion, but from nervousness, an emotion he was well acquainted to these days. He hesitated and swallowed hard, torn for a few long moments.

_When are you going to get another chance like this?_

He closed the distance with an impulsive, obviously unpracticed kiss, just a brief but dizzying contact. "If you side with the sheep, I'm never polymorphing drunken idiots for your amusement again," he added breathlessly, obviously giving Anduin an out if he wanted to just...pretend that didn't happen. Or something

#

"I'm not above bribery," Anduin murmured huskily. 

The kiss had been so fleeting he almost thought he'd imagined it, especially with the way Khadgar just...kept talking. He found himself smiling at Khadgar's obvious nervousness, but not unkindly. 

He sat up a little so that he could position himself better, and caught Khadgar's lips with his own. They were as soft as they looked; though chapped like his, and the brush of Khadgar's small mustache tickled him.

He had done this once with another man before he'd met his wife, but it had been so long ago the sensation was unfamiliar.

But not unpleasant. 

He coaxed Khadgar's bottom lip gently between his teeth, deepening their kiss, before slowly pulling back, his eyes roaming Khadgar's face for some sign of how he was feeling.

"The sheep are obviously guilty," Anduin joked lightly, giving the mage another opportunity to back out and laugh it off.

His heart was hammering in his chest. 

When was the last time he'd had so much to lose? Khadgar's friendship had kept him sane in the wake of his losses, he realized suddenly.

He hoped he wasn't making a mistake, searching for more.

#

Khadgar was obviously inexperienced in this, to say the least. Sure, he'd had the occasional stolen kiss here and there between classmates in the hallways of Dalaran, nothing serious, and nothing beyond that–most of the other students thought he was strange, being so absorbed in his studies, and with Dalaran _floating in the air_ it wasn't like it was simple to take day trips.  That and he worked on his studies day and night.

He had really started to wonder if anyone would ever show an interest in him. He never would have guessed that when someone did, that person would be the _acting king of Stormwind_.

...it was more than a little intimidating.

He made a soft noise of pleasure into the kiss before Anduin pulled away, his own heart like a hummingbird trapped in his chest, and he probably looked a little dazed, too. But it was...nice. More than nice. He could definitely get used to this and not complain in the slightest. He reached up and used one gentle hand to pull Anduin into another kiss, lingering a little longer before pulling away.

"I, uh," he started, and then he laughed just a little. "Sorry. I don't really know what I'm doing. But that's...probably obvious. Pretty sure."

And there he went again, showing off his unerring ability to get tongue-tied when he got nervous. Except with spells. If only his tongue was as quick in conversation as it was with a pyroblast or a shield.

#

Anduin gave him an amused smile. "And what are we doing, that you don't know what to do?"

He made a startled, pleased noise when Khadgar pulled him back into the kiss. 

He moved his hand up carefully to cup the back of Khadgar's neck, making gentle, soothing circles with his thumb.

He wanted to get out of his armor, but he had a feeling the mage might get the idea he was pushing for more and spook.

There were a thousand bells going off in his head to stop, that he was just high off of adrenaline and his fear of losing Khadgar permanently was clouding his judgement, that if they waited he might remember all his reasons for not being involved with the guardian of Azeroth,  but at that moment  he couldn't bring himself to care.

#

Khadgar was sure there were a dozen or more reasons they should get back to Stormwind–their guards were probably beginning to panic with how long they'd been gone, no doubt Taria would be beside herself with worry, plus he had research to do if he wanted to get one step ahead of Gul'dan when he'd been about five steps behind and tricked–but somehow, none of it seemed important enough to pull him away from this moment, right here. He would gladly suffer the wrath of his guard and the Queen if it meant a few more minutes, even, of this.

Besides, who knew how things were going to be once they got back? He briefly wondered if Anduin would push him away again, not only out of protection, but maybe just not wanting anyone else to know. Being...ashamed of it, of Khadgar.

He pushed the thoughts aside. He would worry about that later. Right now he was in pain, tired, and enjoying being distracted from that. He didn't even mind the teasing.

He was very nearly melting into the kiss, relaxing more and more into it as he took Anduin's lead for once. He wasn't used to the 'Lion of Azeroth' being so... _gentle_ , that was for sure.

#

Anduin wasn't sure he could remember the last time he had been intimate with someone. There had been his wife, and then there had been pain and fatherhood and the war. He was loyal; it was ingrained in him. You didn't love someone as much as he had his wife and simply move on from that. 

His friends and acquaintances had tried how set him up with trysts for years, to their increasing frustration. Somehow he didn’t think that guardian would have been what they had in mind.

He certainly hadn't been expecting it.

There was the worry too that since Khadgar was so inexperienced, perhaps he was just curious, and once he'd learned what he could from Anduin he'd lose interest and move on to someone younger and with less...emotional history.

Khadgar was pliant in his arms, though, and he wasn't strong enough to resist. Not after he'd almost lost him.

He pushed those thoughts aside and gripped Khadgar a little tighter, thrusting his tongue inside his lips to caress the top of his mouth.

He breathed against his lips, "Where are we going with this right now, bookworm?" Because he hadn't forgotten that Khadgar had passed out in his arms not that many hours ago. He had a warrior's stamina, but he was afraid Khadgar was still hurting and not telling him.

#

Khadgar was nothing if not a fast learner, at least. He nipped lightly at Anduin's lower lip, then groaned into it when Anduin's grip tightened and he deepened the kiss. By the time the warrior pulled away that small bit, Khadgar probably looked pretty debauched, considering.

"I...hadn't really thought that far ahead," he admitted, his voice a little rougher than usual. And really–it was a hell of a lot for him, of all people, to admit that he hadn't been thinking ahead; Anduin just had that effect on him. "My head's still...a little fuzzy."

And aching, like the rest of him. Couldn't forget that. Well, it was easier to forget when Anduin was kissing him, but still.

He pressed his forehead against Anduin's and closed his eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. "You _scared_ me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "When I couldn't find you, and Garona told me where you'd gone, I... _don't_ do that again, okay?"

#

Anduin groaned a little into Khadgar's mouth, surprised and pleased at the scrape of teeth on his lip. His breathing came shallow and fast.

"Right," he huffed out a laugh. "You haven't nearly killed yourself at Karazhan, or returned again without me. You'd never risk your life without asking me for help." 

He claimed Khadgar's mouth again, hoping to distract him from his lecture. His hands roamed to the small of his back, and he began kneading out the tension there gently. He knew his actions had been folly, but he'd felt as if he'd had no choice.

He certainly didn't want to talk about it.

#

"That's no excuse," Khadgar muttered into the kiss, but he was obviously too distracted to keep going with the argument; that was an easy win for Anduin. Besides, he figured they'd both had enough of the dangers for a while; if he had it his way, neither of them would be running out into the fray again anytime soon.

He likely wouldn't get his wish, but he didn't have to think about it right now.

He arched his back into the touch, pressing against Anduin a bit closer as he tentatively ran his tongue along Anduin's lower lip. He slid one hand up to tangle it in the regent's hair, holding him in close, sure that Anduin could probably feel his heartbeat thudding against his ribs by now. 

Yeah, he was definitely distracted, and would blame it entirely on Anduin. Somehow, he had the feeling the man wouldn't mind taking the blame for that one.

#

Anduin smiled against Khadgar's mouth. Part of it was at the way he felt the mage pressing into him; part of it was learning that it would be that easy to distract him with things like this. He made a quiet noise in his throat when Khadgar held him in place with a hand in his hair. 

Inexperienced, maybe, but already he'd gone from blushing nervousness to demanding more. Briefly he considered how demanding Khadgar was out of bed. 

He had never been one to make life easy for himself, though.

He slid one of his hands forward and began to massage Khadgar's thigh.

"I think it's a great excuse," Anduin couldn't help teasing, knowing he was losing his own battle by doing so. "For every harebrained, risky thing you do, I get one too." 

He caught Khadgar's tongue with his own and tangled them together before lightly biting his lip again. He moved his mouth down the line of his jaw and found that kissing his soft face through the light beard was enough to get him slightly hard. It was so different from a woman's smooth skin, and he found that this was what he had needed, after Calla. He hadn't thought he could take another wife, and he hadn't thought to look for comfort among his own sex until Khadgar showed up in his barracks. He had felt the stir of attraction then, but it had been too laughable to pursue. He had had no idea then what the mage would come to mean to him. 

"That means," he said between kisses, moving his mouth down his throat, sucking and scraping his teeth gently as he saw fit. "That I have at least a thousand excuses left."

He ran his hand down Khadgar's leg and back up, bringing it under his tunic this time so only his pants lay under his fingers instead of all of the cumbersome folds of cloth. He massaged his inner thigh with his thumb.

#

This really, really wasn't _fair_. How was Anduin able to just keep talking through this like nothing was going on? He didn't even sound distracted. He sounded _smug_.

Meanwhile, Khadgar was getting really, _really_ distracted. And definitely turned on.

He couldn't help but tilt his head back with a soft moan as Anduin trailed kisses down his throat, his grip tightening in the man's hair until he realized he was probably going to hurt him if he kept that up. He moved his hand instead to Anduin's chest, sliding it down, able to feel the endless taut muscle underneath his shirt. He had another quick burst of self doubt, wondering why in the world Anduin had chosen _him_ , of all people–he was an academic, a bookworm, in Anduin's own words. The only muscles he had were those of travel and carrying stacks of books.

Of course, it was easy to forget those doubts, at least for now, when he felt Anduin's hand on the inside of his thigh. He couldn't help the blush on his cheeks when he let his legs part a bit, knowing that his pants were already a whole lot tighter in the groin than they had been minutes ago.

"You're _ridiculous_ ," he said, surprised at how breathless and _wrecked_ he already sounded. This was a far cry from anything he'd ever done before, and he knew Anduin was _far_ from inexperienced, which made it both worlds better and more nerve wracking. 

Perhaps if he'd had more experience, he would have worried about the marks Anduin was probably leaving on his neck, but that was the furthest thing from his mind right now when it felt so _good_.

#

Anduin let out a huff of breath as Khadgar encouraged him, parting his legs. For a moment he was overwhelmed, and stopped his administrations to put his forehead against Khadgar's shoulder to compose himself. His thumb continued stroking, workings its way closer to his groin.

He had thought he had lost everything, and then the world had almost taken this from him, too. 

_No,_  he reminded himself. _You almost cost Khadgar his life. If he hadn't been so worried about you, perhaps the trap wouldn't have worked. Perhaps Khadgar would have ported them both back to safety before any of it had happened._

But he still couldn't be sorry for the choices he had made. If he had managed to be successful, Gul'dan would be dead, and Azeroth would be safe. Even if he'd failed, he'd at least had to try, or he wouldn't have been able to live with himself.

_But if things hadn't worked out, and Khadgar had been lost to the fel?_

He pressed his lips again to the fabric of the mage's blue cloak, then reached up to unclasp it. He pressed his forehead to Khadgar's as he went for his belt. The pupils of Khadgar's eyes were large and dark, and he was sure his own weren't any different. 

#

Khadgar was far beyond thinking about the what-ifs and the could-have-beens. He felt the cloak around his shoulders loosen and he readily shrugged it off; though shedding clothing was proving to be tricky when he didn't want to put any extra distance between himself and Anduin.

But the momentary hesitation from Anduin hadn't gone unnoticed. Khadgar huffed out a laugh, giving Anduin a brief, firm kiss. "I realize how silly this sounds coming from me," he said, voice low but certain despite his nervousness. "But you're thinking too much."

He caught the edge of Anduin's shirt below the armor and slipped his hand underneath, pressing his hand against the warm skin there, craving more contact with less between them. "And _wearing_ too much," he added in a mutter, not even sure if he knew how to get all of the armor pieces off of him. It wasn't like he'd worn armor before. Or stripped anyone else out of it, for that matter. But he was finding that off the battlefield, he was liking the armor less and less despite how handsome Anduin might be in it.

He hadn't meant to end up with his one of his legs between Anduin's, but he went with it, pressing his knee upward to see if he was the only one getting really, really affected by this–and he was pleased to find out that no, no he wasn't. 

#

The last of Anduin's restraint evaporated as Khadgar suddenly became more forward and _put his knee against his erection._  Still with a shred of humor left, he breathed out, "I'll show you how to do it before next time," because there was no way he was waiting to show Khadgar the ins and outs of attaching armor right then. He made quick work of his leg pieces and chest plate. 

He paused to kiss Khadgar again, then kneeled closely between his legs, knee to cock, stretching upward to finish taking off his pauldrons. 

Gods, he _ached._  From the feel of it, Khadgar was not much better; the bulge he felt through their clothes was significant. 

Putting his armor aside, he reached between them and slowly tugged down Khadgar's pants, not disguising the look of want he gave what he saw between the mage's parted legs. 

He considered his options for another moment. It had been a while, and the experience he had with men was limited to using his hands. 

_He could do this,_  he decided. He was the Lion of Azeroth. How hard could it be?

He bent his head and took Khadgar's length into his mouth. It wasn't unpleasant, not by any means. He liked the feel of it filling him. But when Khadgar thrust, not that he blamed him, he gagged. 

Quickly he put a hand on Khadgar's chest to stay whatever protest he was sure would come. He looked up at him under the fall of his hair and began sucking, drawing his cock slowly in and out between his cheeks. 

#

Khadgar couldn't help but writhe when Anduin's knee pressed against him; it had been a _long_ time since he'd even had thought to give attention to himself, so needless to say, it didn't take much to get him worked up.

He knew he was red in the face as Anduin stripped him, but all of that was quickly forgotten as he enjoyed the view of Anduin stripping off his armor in turn. He really wanted to get the clothes beneath the armor off too, but before he could move to do so, Anduin was dropping down between his legs.

He groaned loudly when there was suddenly a tight, wet heat surrounding his cock, and he instinctively thrust upward–though he managed to get ahold of himself when he felt Anduin gag around him. He started to stutter out an apology, but the look Anduin gave him was enough to cut that off.

It was easy enough to forget _anything_ , given the sight he saw when he looked down. 

" _Anduin_ ," he moaned as the warrior took his cock back into his mouth, this time restraining himself from thrusting upward. He tangled his fingers in Anduin's hair, trying to keep his grip light and only halfway succeeding as his toes curled with pleasure.

#

Anduin rumbled in pleasure, liking the insistent way Khadgar was gripping his head. He had half thought of asking the mage what he wanted, but hearing his name fall from those lips in that voice was enough to keep him happily in place.

He put his hands on Khadgar's hips, enjoying the feel of the stilted jerks beneath his palms. It was enough to tell him what he was doing was working, and that Khadgar was going to be a considerate lover.

He dragged his tongue along the bottom of his length as he pumped his mouth over Khadgar's erection, imagining how that might feel good on himself.

Through it all, he couldn't help feeling relief that finally there was something he could do to make Khadgar let go of his damnable reserve.

#

Khadgar was finding it harder and harder to stay still as Anduin kept going; he dropped his head back against the grass and bit down on his lower lip hard enough that he tasted blood, trying to stifle the sounds he was making. 

"Oh _Light_ ," he gasped, because this was more than he'd ever imagined it being, more intense, more overwhelming, more everything. His free hand fumbled and grabbed hold of Anduin's shoulder, holding tight to him like an anchor.

It wasn't really surprising that he wasn't going to last long. He tugged at Anduin's hair, trying to stutter out a warning when his mind really didn't want to work at all, let alone create words that made sense. "Anduin...Anduin, I can't–" he managed, fighting to not thrust up into the mouth on him.

#

Anduin wanted to tell Khadgar to just let go and stop worrying; they were in the middle of the forest, for Light's sake, who was going to hear them?

His mouth, though, was otherwise occupied. 

When Khadgar released into his mouth, Anduin swallowed as best he could, surreptitiously spitting the rest of the bitter fluid to the side. He wouldn't admit in a million years to having been worried, but he was relieved to find he enjoyed having Khadgar's cock in his mouth. He expected the mage would want to do that again, based on the noises he was making...and those he was trying to stifle.

He sat back on his heels, his own erection straining painfully against his restrictive leather clothes. He wasn't going to ask Khadgar to reciprocate if he didn't offer; it was too obviously the mage's first time.

...but he would have to go spend some time by himself in the woods if that were the case.

"I can tell you hated that," Anduin joked, his slightly nervous smile belying his words.

Looking down at Khadgar, his lips swollen and cheeks flushed, he couldn't help feel a certain smugness. Here was the Guardian of Azeroth, looking thoroughly debauched because of him.

#

Khadgar couldn't stifle the moan that left him as he released, his whole body tensing as his grip tightened in Anduin's hair. He was boneless for a moment, sending Anduin a very half–hearted glare at his comment.

But not for long. In the next moment, Anduin suddenly had a lapful of debauched Guardian as Khadgar pulled him into an enthusiastic kiss, which hurt a little since he'd been biting down on his lip for half that time, but he didn't really care at the moment. He didn't care about the fact that he was exhausted, or that he still hurt all over, either.

Khadgar was definitely the type to make sure to reciprocate, that was for sure. He slid his hand down Anduin's front to fumble his pants open, nervous but eager; he'd never been shy about learning new things, after all.  He got his hand inside and took hold of Anduin's cock, not without a bit of hesitance, and slid his thumb over the tip experimentally. "Does that mean you would hate it too?" he shot back breathlessly

#  


Anduin let out a surprised grunt and fell backward with Khadgar's weight suddenly in his lap. Bracing himself on his hands he threw his head back, his thoughts too incoherent to respond to his teasing. The insistent press of Khadgar's lips on his drew another groan from him. 

He looked up at Khadgar's face with an open, expectant look of his own. He was curious to see what the mage would do, and his cock was telling him that pretty much would work at this point. 

Then his hips bucked upward as Khadgar's thumb brushed him, too lightly, far too lightly, "Please, bookworm," he said, his teeth bared in a smile that bordered on a grimace. It softened as he looked at the eagerness in Khadgar's face. "Khadgar," he breathed out, correcting himself. " _Anything._  Just _harder._ "

#

Khadgar smirked as Anduin actually corrected himself on the nickname for once–and yeah, Khadgar would be remembering that little trick, because having the 'Lion of Azeroth' begging him for anything at all was a heady feeling indeed. Plus, he really liked the way his name sounded on Anduin's lips when he was like this. 

"Since you asked so nicely," he said, kissing Anduin again as his grip tightened on the man's cock, and he began to stroke steadily but slowly–probably too slowly for Anduin's taste. He kissed his way down Anduin's jaw to his collarbone, where he unwittingly left a mark of his own on the skin there. 

Nervousness rose back up in him as he kissed his way lower, but he tried not to think about it too much–he knew he'd overthink it, given the chance. He was just determined to make Anduin feel as good as he'd felt minutes ago. He hesitated before taking the head of his cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. The taste wasn't bad, at least; he could do this.

#

It took all of his willpower not to buck up into the wet heat of Khadgar's mouth, but he was back on familiar ground. His wife had done this for him, and though it had been many years he still remembered her not-so-gentle reprimands when he'd forgotten himself as she touched him.

His stomach rising and falling rapidly with his breaths, he watched Khadgar in hazy wonder before finally giving in to the moment. He fell onto his back on the grass, writhing under Khadgar's administrations. What he lacked in knowledge was more than made up for in enthusiasm.

His hand found the side of Khadgar's head, and he stroked his warm cheek with his thumb as he moved.

With his head thrown back, he could see the stars far beyond the trees. Not so long ago, he would have thought feeling this way again, like there was some hope left in the world, was lost forever to him.

#

Khadgar actually leaned into the touch a bit, eyes closing for a few moments at the unspoken encouragement; it made him that much more comfortable with what he was doing, taking in more of Anduin until he couldn't take any more without triggering his gag reflex. 

He set his free hand on Anduin's hip, but didn't hold him down, seeing as how he didn't really need to; instead he rubbed soft circles into his skin with his thumb. 

Each time he dipped his head down he tried to take more in, looking up at Anduin through his lashes for any signs that he was doing this right; so far, the man's reaction was encouraging, to say the least. It was kind of an emotional high, that he was seeing Anduin like this, knowing he was the one who caused it.

#

Anduin felt himself reaching the brink, so he drew his eyes back to Khadgar. He sucked in a breath when he saw the mage was watching him back, his eyes dark under thick lashes. Unable to hold on any further he let himself go with a grunt, shuddering as he spilled into Khadgar's mouth. 

He relaxed into the ground, breathing heavily. He tugged at Khadgar, trying to get him to come up into his arms for an embrace. 

#

Khadgar very nearly choked, but managed to swallow most of it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he pulled away–and okay, that was definitely not the best taste in the world, but tolerable. Before he could even say anything Anduin was tugging him upward, and he willingly went along with it. 

He settled down on Anduin's chest, having to catch his breath as well; plus, it was nice having this one last peaceful moment when he knew that soon, they would have to go back to Stormwind.

And they would have a lot of questions to answer once they got there. 

"So, seemed like you hated that," Khadgar said with a mischievous smirk, looking up to meet Anduin's gaze.

#

"It was terrible," Anduin agreed cheerfully, wrapping his arms around Khadgar's shoulders and letting himself enjoy the solid weight and the feel of another person breathing against his skin. "You need practice, so I will be the better man and let you try that again on me."

He smiled, hoping Khadgar would understand the joke. "Couldn't have brought your cloak with you before settling in?" He added a grumble. 

Out there in the forest, everything seemed so peaceful, all the worries so distant. It was a strange feeling for Anduin. He couldn't remember the last time he felt anything remotely like peace.

Taria was going to kill them, he reflected

#

Khadgar rolled his eyes. "How gracious of you," he said, wincing as he reached over to drag his cloak over them. He still felt like he'd gone one on one with a warlock. And now his jaw was a little sore, too, but that he didn't mind so much, considering the circumstances. 

He laid his head down on Anduin's chest, listening to his heartbeat and letting himself doze while he could; he had the feeling he would need to port them fairly soon, and his mana was already at critical levels. He would probably have enough strength to get them back to Stormwind, though, since he had such a connection to the place.

#

Anduin let his fingers trail over the line of Khadgar's back, looking down at him reflectively as the mage's eyes drifted shut. His face still held traces of dirt from the struggle with the fel. He wished he could rub them off with his fingers, but he didn't want Khadgar to think he was disrespecting him. Whatever this was was too new, and he assumed that Khadgar had no previous experience with actual intimacy. From everything he said, he wasn't even experienced with close friendships. He didn't want to scare him by becoming too familiar too fast. 

"I thought I'd lost you," he murmured, still tracing the contours of Khadgar's body.

#

Khadgar relaxed into the touch, his breathing evening out as he nuzzled in even closer. It was like he couldn't stay close enough, couldn't share enough warmth with this amazing man.

"Can't get rid of me that easy," he said softly, but the joke came out weak; after all, only hours ago, he'd been begging Anduin to kill him before he could hurt the people he loved.

And he'd been ready to die, too, when Anduin had lifted that sword over his head. He'd been _relieved_ that all the pain and horror of the moment was going to end. 

"I'm sorry I had to ask you to do that," he said even softer than before, swallowing hard, knowing that Anduin would know exactly what he was referring to. 

#

"I'm sorry you went through it," Anduin said fiercely. His grip tightened for a moment, before he went back to stroking the other man. "I'm sorry I..."

_...failed you._  He couldn't say that out loud, or it would just make for a long and frustrating argument. He wasn't read to give up the quietude just yet. 

"I told you you were stronger," he said instead. Then, softly, "Don't doubt yourself, Khadgar. You have no reason to."

#

"I almost...gave into it. It was so _much_ , and I couldn't..." Khadgar started, and then he shook his head. "I didn't want to use it, but if I hadn't, we both would have died."

He closed his eyes again, trying not to imagine what would have happened if the demon took full control. "The demon said...that's how it always starts. Using it to save your friends. Desperation," he said, his voice nearly cracking.

His grip tightened on Anduin. "I don't want to end up like..."

He trailed off. He didn't need to finish the sentence; Anduin would know. Khadgar had been through enough nightmares; he didn't want to say it out loud. He still frequently woke up in a cold sweat, constantly reliving the scene where he'd used his own magic to kill Medivh–and in his dreams, he always found out too late that Medivh could have been saved. That he didn't have to die.

He didn't know if that was the case outside his nightmares. He wasn't sure he wanted to know. 

#

"You haven't and you won't," Anduin replied. The image of Khadgar sprouting horns while he was powerless to help was one that would stay with him for the rest of his life. 

Just then there was a guttural cry in the distance, a throaty babbling of words that was answered moment later by two more, both significantly closer.

"It sounds like we may be battling murlocs soon," he murmured. "Light, I had hoped we could just stay here a while longer. You can sleep, if you want, but I'll feel better if I can grab my sword." He reluctantly made to sit up.

#

Khadgar groaned as he moved to sit up. "We should probably head back to Stormwind anyway. The guards are already going to be furious with us for taking this long," he said, knowing that they'd told Dion that it was a 'reconnaissance mission'. So much for that. 

He grabbed his clothes and pulled them on, which was probably a good idea anyway with how cold it was getting; it looked like it would rain soon, too. That would be their luck. "I can go ahead and port us, if you want to avoid the hassle of fighting off murlocs," he offered, guessing that he had enough energy left to get them back safely. He also wasn't very fond of murlocs; at least the older ones, anyway. The baby murlocs were actually kind of adorable, if you didn't think about what they would grow up to be like.

He'd polymorphed quite a few murlocs over the years, that was for sure. But he needed to conserve his strength right now for the portal.

#

"If you're up to it," Anduin said, his voice regretful and quiet. 

He didn't want to leave that place; it felt like he had been granted a boon of sorts that he'd even been allowed that moment with Khadgar. 

He pushed up, slower than the mage, and began gathering his strewn armor. He gestured to the pile. "Can you transport this if I'm not wearing it, or do you want that lesson in how armor attaches to the body now?"

#

Khadgar really didn't want to wait around here any longer if murlocs were in earshot. "As long as it's in the circle, it won't be a problem," he said; it would take a minuscule amount of extra energy to bring it along. He grabbed Atiesh where it had fallen when he ported them here, and he swung it low over the ground, saying the portal incantation this time–it took less energy to do a voiced spell over a wordless one.

"Brace yourself. This may not be as smooth as usual," he said, eyes glowing bright blue, but the light was flickering the slightest bit as he gathered the energy in his closed fist. He didn't give Anduin any time to argue; the moment the warrior stepped into the circle, he released the energy and felt the smooth snap of the portal.

He was right, though, about it not being as smooth; he'd been aiming for the throne room, where there was a lot of space to work with, but they ended up appearing in the hallway just off to the side of the throne room, and about six inches off the ground to boot. He landed and stumbled, almost immediately sinking down to his knees and bracing a hand on the floor, the other hand pressing to his forehead as the hallway spun around him for a moment. The pain throbbed more intensely through him for a few seconds at the mana usage before it started to fade again; he didn't even notice that some really confused guards had heard the ruckus and rushed into the hallway, swords at the ready.

#

The forest faded around them, and when they reappeared it seemed Khadgar had missed his mark. Teleportation had never been his favorite mode of transportation to begin with, and no matter how well the mages –Khadgar and Medivh –were able to tolerate it, he always seemed to go sprawling.

This time it was much worse. Vaguely he noticed Khadgar himself falling to his knees, and there was an enormous clanging as his armor went clattering everywhere, falling from midair. 

Like he did. They weren't even on the ground. He didn't know that this was a possibility, but it sank his love of porting to a downright hatred.

He went tumbling head over heels, his warrior's training only partially helping him to make it look like he'd intended to fall into a roll. He still landed on his back when he stopped, though, instead of the graceful crouch he intended. 

Groaning, he looked up at the surprised faces of several of the palace guard; troops he himself had trained. He groaned for an entirely different reason then–irritated embarrassment–and curled up around his sore body.

"Lothar?" One of the guards was so surprised they forgot to use his titles. He hadn't ever cared for the formalities of regent and lord and sire, but it attested to how shaken the guard himself was because they were trained within an inch of their life on how to address royalty. 

He waved a hand in the guard's general direction, hoping they'd all just disappear so he could have his dignity back. "Are you all right?" he called when he stopped moaning. "Khadgar?"

There was a new, familiar pounding of footsteps. He scrunched his eyes closed, knowing what was coming.

"Anduin? Khadgar?" Taria's voice was every bit as hurt and angry as he'd expected it to be. It took a lot for Taria to break her serenity, but when she did, she didn't hold back. "Bring them to the sitting room," she told the guards curtly.

_Wonderful._  Anduin thought. Exactly what he wanted right then: a lecture and having to recount his massive misjudgment. At least they had the excuse of Khadgar's magic for their missing time, but he doubted there was a lot that could disguise the red marks on both their throats. He had been intentionally gentle enough that they would have faded by morning, but he had no idea what his own throat looked like. 

He longed for the peace they'd had just moments ago.

Light, he really hated murlocs. 

"Can you have my armor put in my rooms?" He asked one of the guards plaintively.

"Yes, sire," he said. At least he sounded appropriately sympathetic.

Anduin got to his feet, his back aching from the fall, and found Khadgar bent over feet away from where he was. A guard was already with him and with a curt look at her she backed off so he could kneel beside him. "Khadgar. Are you all right?" He repeated his question, his hand on the small of the mage's back.

#

Khadgar nodded, taking in a few slow, steady breaths. "I'm sorry," he said, carefully sitting back on his heels and staying put there for a moment, making sure he didn't feel like he would keel over if he stood up. "I'm...not quite as recovered as I thought I was."

At least he didn't port them into a wall or something. Of course, it took a loss of concentration of absolutely monumental levels to make a mistake like that; there were only a few records of it ever happening to anyone. Granted, 'just fought off being taken over by an Orc warlock and a fel demon' might rise to those kinds of levels, were he quite a bit weaker, but he wouldn't have ported them at all if he thought there was the slightest chance of an accident like that.

Non-mages took portals for granted, but they were no simple thing; concentrating on the energy of the place you were meaning to go, staying in touch with your own spirit and the spirits of those going with you, judging the transportation by the last centimeter to make sure you didn't miss the ground by even an inch–all those things and more went into it. It was mentally exhausting when it came to the more complex portals.

Khadgar slowly stood, staying still for a few moments until he felt steady on his feet. The guards waited patiently, staying close at hand in case they were needed on the way to the sitting room; Taria's tone had filled Khadgar with a sense of dread. She actually sounded angry, and that took a lot.

An angry queen was intimidating. A furious queen was downright terrifying.

But it had to be ten times worse for Anduin, given that she was his sister as well; which was why Khadgar was quick to start to explain once they got in the room. "I'm sorry," he quickly said, unaware of just how...well, debauched he looked right about now. It wasn't like he had experience with clandestine make out sessions. "It was my fault, Lady Taria. I asked Anduin to take me to the Dark Portal so I could try and figure out which spell Gul'dan was casting."

#

Anduin wanted to throw himself on one of the plush couches, but as it was he was self-aware enough to know the line between sister and Queen had been crossed for Taria. He didn't meet her eyes, leaning against the wall at the back of the room and dragging a thumbnail over the patterned wallpaper. There were little gold lions over a textured blue; it was actually quite pretty, if he cared about things like wallpaper. 

He felt a wave of gratitude toward Khadgar for starting their explanation. 

"You went to the Dark Portal?" Taria's voice was dangerously low. "You went to the Dark Portal, Anduin, with just the two of you, without telling your Queen of Stormwind's plans?"

Anduin winced, and still kept his face averted. "Two made more sense. An army would have been wiped out. We weren't there to fight, Khadgar was going to find out what Gul'dan was doing with the fel and come back to Stormwind."

"Look at me, Anduin," she commanded. 

Anduin dragged his eyes to her face. It was openly upset, and worse, devastated. 

"I wouldn't have known what happened to you. I would have spent my days wondering what had happened to my brother. I just lost my husband, how could you do that to me?"

Anduin flinched. He swallowed thickly. "I thought it would be our only chance."

"And you, Khadgar. You are the Guardian of Azeroth. This is how you protect your king?"

"That's not fair, Taria," Anduin broke in sharply. 

She leveled a stare at him that said she had much more to say to him later, in private. He jutted his chin out, daring her to say whatever it was to him now, in Khadgar's presence, but she was too calculating to rise to the bait. 

"And that's not all that happened, is it?" She asked softly. 

Anduin gritted his teeth. "It was a trap. Gul'dan had been disturbing the magic that Khadgar was sensing on purpose." He slapped the wall, anger overriding his common sense. He hadn't meant to tell his sister more than that they'd gone, and it had gone south. "His eyes are on us. I don't know what he has planned, but he's not focusing on the gate like we'd thought. He's focusing on Khadgar. He made him an... _offer_..." Anduin spat the word out. "It's going to make planning an attack even harder. He's going to try his hardest to take out the Guardian." He had hoped Gul'dan didn't even know Khadgar existed, but that was obviously out of the question.

"And what did you do?" Taria pressed.

Anduin's lips thinned and he looked away from her again, avoiding Khadgar's eyes completely.

"What did you do, Anduin?"

"I am sorry we didn't tell you where we were going," he said, meeting her eyes. "You're right. It wasn't fair to you."

She stared evenly back at him, still expecting an answer to her question.

#

As soon as Taria's attention focused on Khadgar, as soon as she said that, he flinched nearly as if she'd struck him.

He'd done everything he could to protect his king. He would die for his king. He'd been ready to do so, on his hands and knees, begging to be struck down so Anduin wouldn't be hurt.

And yet, if he hadn't suggested going in the first place, Anduin never would have been in that position. She was right; that was entirely his fault. All of it was. And yet, he knew if Taria found out Anduin had gone for Gul'dan head on, things would get incredibly worse.

He didn't agree with Anduin having done it, but he knew that Anduin already felt guilty about it. He didn't need his sister bringing the gauntlet down on him about a decision he already regretted having made.

"We were discovered when we got too close to the camp," he fibbed–after all, Garona had caught him when he got closer looking for Anduin. "Gul'dan was expecting us. They were on high alert. I..."

He swallowed hard, his hands tightening into fists. "I should never have suggested it. I put us both in danger needlessly. I was...trapped, and very nearly overcome by the fel," he admitted. If that didn't get her attention off Anduin, nothing would. "Every one of my actions tonight was inexcusable. I should be setting a better precedent, given my...position."

Not that he'd asked for or wanted the position. But one didn't choose to be Guardian; one was chosen, willing or not.

"I should be an example, and not the exception. If there's an appropriate punishment for my misjudgment, I won't argue against it," he added, not meeting either Anduin or Taria's eyes. It was stunningly obvious that he was mentally back in the same state of mind as he would have been in Dalaran, explaining himself to the Kirin Tor and awaiting a verdict; granted, he wouldn't subject himself like this to the Kirin Tor, not anymore, but the ingrained knowledge was still there, the self doubt and guilt of having made a huge mistake.

#

"it wasn't his fault!" Anduin turned to them both, alarmed. 

The fact that Khadgar not only had not told his sister of his actions but now was trying to take the blunt of the blame was not lost on him. It filled his heart with both warmth and dread. This was why he had tried to avoid telling Khadgar how he felt. He didn't want the mage fighting his battles for him, or taking on more responsibility than he should have to. And he was perfectly aware from having to listen to countless apologies fall from Khadgar's lips that he was already too willing to take on punishment and blame for things that weren't his fault. 

"Taria, the Guardian's actions were in accord with his role. He doesn't answer to us. He sensed a threat to Azeroth and responded to it. A simple mistake that we hadn't planned on Gul'dan setting us up." He gave Khadgar a worried look that had a hint of reproach for even trying to take the blame away from him. "He's suffered enough. Gul'dan tried to bring a demon out from him, Taria, using the fel."

"No," Taria breathed. "Khadgar, how terrible. And you survived."

_He almost died. He asked me to kill him. I almost had to kill him._

"Anduin?" Taria's voice finally was concerned, not angered. 

He closed his eyes tightly. 

He heard Taria sigh. "Khadgar. I blame my brother, the regent, for not telling anyone of his plans. Not you. I have a feeling there's more yet to this story you're unwilling to tell me." 

Anduin looked at her with his chin pointed downward, deeply unhappy. He was in agreement with her, and that was the problem.

"Llane would have sent you to the barracks for a week, Anduin," Taria said. "But that was when he was King and you were Commander. The situation is different now. Your decisions are Stormwind's."

Anduin blanched again as if slapped. She hadn't forgiven him and wasn't about to.

"You are the only person who calls me Anduin and not Lothar because they are angry with me," he said.

Her lips twitched a little at that, but it wasn't enough to override the disappointment on her face.

#

Khadgar was a little surprised at Anduin's outburst–not the fact that he was defending Khadgar, but the vehemence with which he did so. He wanted nothing more right now than to pull Anduin from this room and port them right back to that field–okay, maybe a different field with less murlocs–to get back to that brief peace they once had.

Of course, as tired as he was, he might instead port them into the middle of a lake. 

"'Gul'dan wishes to use the fel to turn me against my own people," he explained to Taria softly, but he was quick to continue. "It won't happen, you can rest assured of that. I'll die before I cause any of you pain through my own corruption."

That much, he hoped he'd already proved, at least to Anduin.

The door to the sitting room suddenly opened, which was surprise enough considering the guards knew better than to disturb the queen right now. The guard in the doorway saluted, though, and didn't wait to speak.

"Sir Lothar. Lady Taria," he said, his tone respectful but his words rushed. "There's a Darnassian emissary on their way to the throne room. They're asking for an immediate audience with the regent and queen of Stormwind; they say it's of the utmost importance."

Khadgar blinked in shock. Elves didn't come to others for aide lightly; if an emissary of Darnassus was here, it must be something truly crucial.

#

 

 


	5. Fifth Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Khadgar only follows rules when he wants to, and they sail to Darnassus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early for Susangel because (s)he posted us a three page comment full of begging ^^; Sorry this was so late in the weekend, hope you still have time to check it out :).
> 
> (and sorry for the cliffhanger...meep)

"Darnassus," Anduin questioned, casting a gaze toward Taria. 

She was giving him a similar look of concern. It was a good sign, though not enough–she had always been able to push past personal disagreements for the greater good. 

"Please tell them we will see them," Taria said. 

She looked at both Khadgar and Anduin; it was an assessing, enveloping look that left nothing unnoticed. Her gaze softened slightly.

"Come, Khadgar," she said, turning to the mage. "Listen."

She swept out of the room.

With a look at Khadgar, Anduin fell into step at her right shoulder. 

The Darnassian was already there, apparently unwilling to wait for an audience. Palace guards lined the hall. Anduin and Taria took their seats after exchanging bows. The emissary refused to sit. 

"We welcome you to Stormwind," Taria said in her gentle voice. "This is the Guardian of Azeroth." She gestured to Khadgar. "Khadgar. He knows your language if you need help translating." She didn't add that she herself knew Darnassian, Anduin noted; it was a neat excuse.

"Why have you come?" Anduin added. He had a sinking feeling in his gut.

#

Khadgar was glad to be invited. In all honesty, he probably would have followed even if he hadn't been, just because he was curious. And he had a bad habit of getting into places where he shouldn't be, obviously. He didn't put himself in the center of things as of yet, though; he stayed off to the side, watching attentively as Anduin and Taria took their places.

The emissary was a tall woman, probably a full head taller than Khadgar, armored in the classic purple and silver armor of the Darnassian royal guard and with a large double bladed glaive strapped to her back. Her skin was a light purple, and her long dark blue hair was fastened into a tight coil of braids at the back of her neck. Her glowing, white eyes appraised them as they entered the room–and she didn't bother disguising the moment of disdain when Khadgar was introduced as the Guardian.

"Ishnu'alah, Regent. Lady Taria. I know your language. That is why I was sent," she said, her voice firm, respectful but all business in tone. "And it is good your...Guardian is here, as this concerns him as well."

Khadgar raised an eyebrow. Things must be truly dire if the Elves were willingly requesting the involvement of a mage in their business. The Elf showed no sign of worry or concern, though–but then again, the warriors of Darnassus were renowned for their bravery and composure, even in the most dire of situations.

"The High Priestess of Elune requests the presence of your regent and your Guardian at the Temple of the Moon for a...diplomatic negotiation and possible combination of forces," she continued, though she couldn't have made it any more plain that she was not in agreement with the 'Guardian' part of that invitation. Khadgar briefly wondered why the High Priestess held such a different point of view. "To put it simply in order to impress upon you the urgency of the situation, I've been given permission to divulge the fact that Orcs have landed on our shores, and may be in league with the Darkspear tribe of trolls that have recently been making attacks upon our people. We have little experience with these Orcs, and it is our understanding that you have fought them before, and prevailed."

Khadgar took in a sharp breath. If the Orcs were looking to create allies in Kalimdor, the situation could become dire for the Elves who inhabited the northern end of the continent; no wonder they were reaching out.

#

Anduin felt like ramming his head into a wall, and his expression said as much. "I was afraid Kalimdor might be threatened, but not so soon."

"We are sorry to hear it," Taria added. "They have brought nothing but ruin to these lands."

Anduin glanced back at Khadgar. "I had already mentioned coming to you for aid, but I thought your people wouldn't be willing, as I had no idea the war had been brought to you. This bodes ill for our fight. One continent has been hard enough to defend."

#

Nothing they said looked like a surprise to the emissary; it seemed the Elves had been keeping up on events in the Eastern Kingdoms as best they could.

"I'm not at liberty to make offers," the emissary said. "However, our High Priestess sends her assurance that if you are able to lend us aid, we may be able to spare some of our warriors, priestesses, and druids for the fight in your lands."

Khadgar nodded. "It would only be to both our advantage to keep the Orcs fighting on two fronts," he said, leaning just slightly against the wall. He was _so_ tired, but this was obviously more important than him catching up on his sleep. "The Darkspear trolls have suffered losses from infighting with other tribes. They may feel as though they don't have any other options if faced with an invasion. Having the Orcs on their side could save their own way of life."

The emissary actually looked surprised for a moment that Khadgar knew so much about the politics of the troll tribes of Kalimdor, but she quickly hid that. "The High Priestess doesn't expect you to send an army straightaway, but she implores you to make great haste for the negotiation," she said, only sparing Khadgar a glance. "If you need your ships to remain here to defend you city, my own ship is leaving at sunup tomorrow, and we have extra quarters prepared for a small party to come along if you wish."

She then pinned Khadgar with an intense look. "Do keep in mind that even though you are invited, Guardian, any use of magic is forbidden on Darnassian vessels and in our cities. The High Priestess may be extending the invitation, but my sisters and I know of the betrayal of your last Guardian and the corruption of his magic, and we will not hesitate to act should you choose not to heed the laws of our land, no matter the title you hold," she said, not even bothering to disguise the threat. 

But given the Elven history with magic, Khadgar really wasn't surprised. Magic had shattered their very society, and nearly been the downfall of their people. 'Prejudiced' was putting it lightly.

That said, Khadgar couldn't help but stiffen at the implication that he was no different than the last Guardian. 

#

Anduin sent Khadgar a long look. The mage didn't take well to having his abilities stifled; being under oath not to use it couldn't be much different. It could go badly for them if either it put Khadgar under too much emotional strain, or if he broke the agreement, which could spell disaster.

He had wondered at the emissary's request–the Elves, despite their history, were still great users of magic. Her mention of Medivh's corruption brought an uncomfortable clarity.

"Why does your Priestess want the Guardian to come, if you're so afraid of his abilities?" Anduin turned back to her. "Please forgive my bluntness, but that seems like a contradiction.

"...and of course, we will go. And we welcome your help with gratitude on our shores."

He looked to Taria and she nodded her agreement. 

#

The emissary stiffened and her eyes locked on Anduin in a glare. "We do not fear his abilities. We have simply seen the havoc that magic has wrought throughout both our history and yours, and we have no interest in allowing it to repeat," she said, and then she lifted her chin.

"If you wish full disclosure, then know this; the only reason your Guardian is invited to this negotiation at all is because the High Priestess believes he is trustworthy and can contribute to the war efforts. Were it up to myself or her other commanders and priestesses, he would not be welcome."

Khadgar snorted; talk about a warm, welcome invitation to Darnassus. "Out of respect for your High Priestess, I'll agree to your terms," he said, giving Anduin a brief reassuring smile; though he wasn't exactly pleased with the thought of absolutely no magic use for the entire trip, it would be worth it if it could get them help on the front lines. The druids and priestesses of Darnassus could be invaluable in the fight against the Orcs.

Though he had to wonder why this High Priestess had so much faith in him, having never met him before; she obviously didn't hold the same prejudice as her people, if she was deciding to invite him against the word of all her advisors.

#

Taria and Anduin rose as one. 

"We thank Darnassus for considering Stormwind its ally," Taria said. "Please be assured it is mutual. We would request your presence at a feast in your honor this evening. I understand if you prefer to remain on your ship; you may also choose to stay here with us at the castle. We would be happy to set you up with comfortable accommodations. I know what a long journey that must have been for you. "

Anduin was grateful for his sister's diplomacy; at that moment, the rudeness of the Darnassian toward Khadgar had eradicated his ability to be completely civil. The only reason he gave her a polite nod instead of a grimace was that he did, at least, value her forthright honesty.

After the emissary took her leave, Anduin turned to Taria, excitement in his eyes. "This was a trip I had intended to make anyway. It's less than ideal that we no longer have the ability to keep the Orcs from Kalimdor, but these may be the extra forces we need to gain the upper hand here."

Without the emissary, Taria had gone back to her pinched, disappointed expression with him, but she did manage a smile. "It is a silver lining," she said.

#

"I worry for the smaller settlements in Northern Kalimdor. They're hemmed in by the sea to the north and the Darkspear to the south," Khadgar said, still a bit distracted by the fact that the High Priestess has specifically requested his presence. Maybe she knew something that her commanders and priestesses didn't. 

Or maybe the situation was just that desperate. 

"I guess I get to take a boat trip after all," he said, and then he pushed away from the wall–but only for a moment before he braced his hand on the wall again, pressing his other hand to his forehead and hoping the dizziness would pass quickly. 

He needed rest, after all of this, but he'd hardly had the opportunity since they got back. 

#

Anduin half started toward Khadgar to help him when he faltered, but paused mid-step, glancing to Taria. She shoo'd him with her hands, giving him a reprimanding look that he could only guess was for his hesitation.

He wasn't ashamed of his care for Khadgar, not for his age, not for their both being men, not for their positions. But Taria was fully aware he committed to his relationships, the few he had had, and there had been no one since Calla. He was worried about the pressure that would come with Taria knowing. What if Khadgar changed his mind, or tired of him?

What if he found he couldn't do this?

He stepped forward though immediately at her encouragement, supporting Khadgar by his arms. It allowed Khadgar to shake him off if he didn't want his help.

"We'll talk later," Taria warned him. "Please, both of you, rest."

#

Khadgar didn't turn down the help; he was fairly sure he might need it getting to his room. "Maybe a while of not using magic will be good for me," he said with a weak laugh, lifting his hand from the wall again. This time, at least, he stayed steady on his feet.

He looked to Taria with an apologetic look. "I am sorry, Lady Taria. We didn't intend to worry you," he said before grabbing onto Anduin with one hand to steady himself. His body and mind were both exhausted, the arcane within him at critical levels.

"I think I might skip the dinner. I doubt the emissary would appreciate my being there anyway," he pointed out, though there was amusement in his tone. The level of prejudice some people had would never cease to amaze him. 

#

Anduin shared another look with his sister. "Under different circumstances, that would not be politic," he cautioned. "But in this case we should be able to come up with an adequate excuse."

They took their leave and he helped Khadgar out of the hall and down to his room. Once there, Anduin gave him an assessing look, then sat down on his bed and began to strip.

He wondered if this was allowed, or if now that they were back in civilization Khadgar would be embarrassed to give any indication of their involvement. 

#

Khadgar actually felt a rush of warmth when it became obvious that Anduin planned to stay. He'd been worried about the same; whether Anduin would want anyone to associate the two of them like this. But it seemed that Anduin wasn't concerned about the rumors that would surely spring from them sharing a room–and Khadgar wasn't worried about it either. 

He made quick work of changing into his sleep clothes, and then the moment Anduin was ready, he dropped into the bed and snuggled up close to the warrior, too tired to be hesitant or anything of the sort. It wasn't long at all before he slipped into unconsciousness, holding tight to Anduin.

Maybe it was the profound exhaustion, or maybe it was the fact that Anduin was there with him, but either way he didn't have nightmares for once.

#

Anduin was so tired that with the combined comfort of a bed and the warmth of another body he fell into a thankfully dreamless sleep. 

He was woken far too soon by a frantic knocking. Disengaging himself from Khadgar–not an easy task, the mage was like a squid–he padded over to the door, pulling on his shirt.

Mustard was there, and he was giving him a look that was an odd mixture of relieved, surprised, and downright intimidatory. 

"You disapprove?" Anduin flat–out asked in a whisper.

"He's young," was what the guard grunted back.

"And?" 

"It's been a while for you, according..."

"According to the rumors?" Anduin finished for him, scowling. "You're what, worried I'll hurt him?" He sent a look over his shoulder, and pulled Dion into the hallway, shutting the door behind them. Anduin crossed his arms.

"It's not my place to say, sire."

Anduin snorted. "But glowering is ok? I could have you thrown in the barracks."

Mustard shrugged. "Maybe I've served you long enough to remember what it was like for you after your wife."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Sorry if I was disrespectful."

"You were," Anduin said. 

"I'm sorry, sire. You asked."

"You should be." Anduin glared at him a moment more. "So what is it?"

"Dinner's in an hour, and the Queen would like you respectable."

Anduin dismissed him, frowning at his back. 

Finally he went to his own rooms to get ready.

#

Khadgar slept straight through dinner and most of the night as well before he finally woke, not surprised to find the bed empty where Anduin had once been. He figured the man would have gotten called away to the dinner or other royal duties while Khadgar regained his strength.

At least the pain had dulled to a low, barely-there ache, and he didn't feel like he would fall over if he tried to stand. He got dressed and made for the hallway, finding Dion standing guard, like always.

"How long did I sleep?" he asked. If he didn't know better, he'd think Dion looked even more stern than usual. 

"It's a couple of hours till sunup. You might want to pack," Dion said, and then he hesitated. "Permission to speak freely, Guardian?"

Khadgar rolled his eyes, but not unkindly. "You know you don't have to ask with me."

"I just wanted you to know that if anyone hurts you– _anyone_ –you let me know. I'm here to protect you," Dion said, and Khadgar frowned, the implication going right over his head.

"Uh...thanks. I think," he said, and then he set to work packing–first the clothes and necessities, then he went on to the library, trying to narrow it down to a small satchel if books that would most help on this particular journey. 

#

The feast for the emissary had gone well. Anduin was able to talk to her for most of the night–the Night Elf's name was Thelae Sageblade, translated to their tongue. He found himself fascinated by the glow of her eyes–he had been to Teldrassil before, and Darnassus, but as with Khadgar, the novelty of magic never wore off. 

Stormwind's court bard was well–traveled, so by the end of the night not only had he managed to ply the woman with drinks, but he also got her to remind him of a Darnassian dance he had learned on the last trip.

As it had been with Dion, Taria also watched him with an expression caught between pleased and disapproving. 

His efforts paid off, however, and by late into the night the emissary opened up about the troubles facing Kalimdor. While the Orcs were mainly on the eastern coast, there had been attacks as far west as Ashenvale. The Night Elves had been taken by surprise and slaughtered–it alarmed the reclusive people enough to travel across the sea to ask for help. Their peoples had a wary alliance and peace–the Night Elves were distrustful of outsiders by nature, and humans were afraid of their larger size, glowing eyes, and shadowy predispositions. 

Through the night, he tried to regale her with tales of Khadgar's feats as Guardian, and how often he had saved his life. She would have none of it at first, becoming shifty at first mention of the Guardian, but as the festivities wound down she would at least let him finish a tale before changing the topic swiftly to more comfortable ground. 

After Thelae had returned to her ship, and he had returned to his own rooms to begin checking his armor over and to pack, Taria came to find him. 

"I didn't want us to part on such a bad note," she said, her eyes wide and earnest. 

Anduin sighed. The siblings sat on the edge of his bed together. "I'm sorry for not telling you. I've gotten mad at the spell-chucker for doing the same to me," he admitted.

She smiled at the nickname. "You've had it easy with me," she said.

"Oh, yes, easy," he laughed. "You just married my best friend and became my Queen. I'm still convinced you did that to win all our arguments."

"Pity it didn't work," she nudged his shoulder. They smiled at each other. 

"So I'm forgiven?" He asked finally. 

"Not until you tell me the rest of it," she said. 

"Can it wait until our return?"

She frowned heavily at him. It looked out of place on her delicate features. "Was it really so terrible, what you did?"

"If I had succeeded, no. But I failed."

She pressed her lips together, but nodded. She stood and looked as if she had a book of things perhaps she wanted to say to him, but held open her arms instead. He got up and returned her embrace.

"I'll be mad at you until you do return," she said, her smile belying her words.

Anduin smiled back. "Then I'll be back, since I live in terror of your wrath."

–––

Anduin had the soldiers that were going with them–three men and one woman–take their supplies and his bags down to the docks while he went to find Khadgar. Unsurprisingly, he found him in the library, sorting books like it was the last time he'd ever be in civilization. 

"You may be too seasick to read," he cautioned with a smile, padding up close to the mage.

#

Khadgar smiled brightly at Anduin; despite the events of yesterday, he was feeling better after getting a full night of sleep. "Some of these might be relevant to the issues with the Darkspear. And I need to keep working on the translation on a couple of them," he said, putting another book into his satchel. 

He was a little nervous about the trip over; he wasn't nervous about being seasick, figuring that may be unavoidable, but nervous about being surrounded by miles upon miles of water. 

"How, uh...safe are these ships?" he asked, trying to sound casual about it and probably failing miserably.

#

"Afraid, bookworm?" Anduin said, grinning. "After all that about wanting to see the ships? You won't even notice the ride. You'll be buried in those pages and before you know it, you'll complain about not seeing the ocean."

He ruffled Khadgar's hair and picked up one of his bags. "Is there anything else you need to do before we leave? We're expected at the harbor."

#  


"I'm not afraid," Khadgar said, though he probably didn't sound very convincing. He just wasn't about to admit that he couldn't swim–he'd probably get teased for the whole trip over that.

He could see plenty of the ocean from the shore, thank you very much. 

He sighed and picked up his satchel and his other bag, taking one last look over the books on the table he'd been working with...before grabbing one more. "Okay, okay. I'm ready."

#

Anduin gave him an amused look and led him down to the harbor. 

Thelae was there waiting for them on the docks. "My lord," a smile accompanied that, followed by a more cordial nod. "Guardian."

"Thelae," Anduin nodded with a smile of his own. "It seems we've packed half the library at Stormwind Castle, is there enough room for that much weight?"

The Elf gave their bags an assessing look and she nodded, raising her hand for them to follow. "This is the Shadow's Fall," she said, indicating the boat. She took them down a flight of steps, and showed them to two separate cabins. "Here are your quarters. My room is that way–" She allowed them to put their bags inside, and then motioned for them to follow. "And the captain's quarters, if you have need of her, are here."

She continued the tour of the boat, showing them the mess deck, crew's quarters, ballast and stores, gun deck, and brig. "She's a good, sturdy, ship," she finished, with a noticeably disdainful look at Khadgar. Anduin had to swallow a smile; she probably took the mage's nerves for criticism.

"We couldn't ask for a better escort," Anduin grinned at her. 

  
#

Khadgar tried not to let his nerves show, but judging by the look the Elf was giving him, he only partially succeeded. Nonetheless, he didn't have to fake his interest in learning about the ship, obviously paying close attention as she explained where everything was. 

They ended the tour up on deck, where the wind was picking up and the crew preparing the ship for departure. As soon as Thelae let them know when meals would be ready she took her leave, and Khadgar turned to Anduin. 

"How long is the journey?" he asked, glancing out toward the open water. He hoped it was smooth sailing; he could only imagine how much more nervous he'd get if the ship started pitching side to side or something.

...or got attacked by Naga. Ugh. 

#

"A little more than a week, if the wind is favorable," Anduin said. He touched Khadgar's elbow lightly. "Don't worry so much. This ship is safer than that Light-forsaken tower you were trying to make your home. At least ships don't come with horse-sized spiders. Usually."

The crew began calling to one another in Darnassian, and before long, the sails billowed out. Despite his assurances to Khadgar, he was looking forward to the trip even less than the mage. Anduin was comfortable with sailing, but his stomach usually had ideas of its own.

The Shadow's Fall left Stormwind Harbor. Anduin watched his city as it shrank away from them. 

He could only hope that everything remained calm in his absence.

#

Surprisingly enough, Khadgar didn't get seasick–much to the chagrin of the Elves on board who were looking forward to chuckling at his discomfort. It seemed the unstable nature of magical transport had given him an edge outside of the arcane for once.

But that didn't help his nerves a whole lot. Especially when the seas were a little rougher than usual.

He made the best of it though, mostly exploring and reading out on the deck for most of the day. When time for the meal came around, though, an unforeseen barrier came up–namely, the pretty intense glares he got from the crew. He stopped not far in the door, then turned around and almost ran right into Anduin behind him.

"You know, I'm really not that hungry," he said, slipping past Anduin and heading for the stairs to the deck.

He'd done battle with a demon, fought off the influence of an Orc warlock–but somehow, a room full of Night Elf soldiers who hated everything about him was just as intimidating.

#  


Anduin almost stopped Khadgar, but the mage was past him before he could reach out. 

Sighing inaudibly, he joined the crew for the meal. It was going to be a long journey and a difficult diplomatic entreaty if both humans shunned the Night Elves. 

Khadgar's actions puzzled him; he had stood up to the Kirin Tor, and Anduin's own hostility had certainly not done anything to dissuade the mage before. Surely a group of snotty Elves couldn't be that bad.

He joked with the crew and exchanged a couple war stories before making up a plate and taking it to Khadgar, who he found on deck. 

Swallowing around his customary nausea upon eating at sea, Anduin nudged the mage with an elbow and proffered him the food. Despite his best efforts, he knew he looked as ill as he felt, so he kept his mouth closed.

#  


Khadgar was sitting back against one of the wooden poles holding up the rigging when Anduin sat down next to him and offered up a plate; he smiled a little weakly and took it with a soft 'thank you'.

"I'm sorry," he said after a minute of silence, speaking between bites of food. "I know I'm supposed to be...trying to make nice with them, I just..."

His brow furrowed with a frown as he stared down at his plate. "They look at me like they think I'm already...too far gone," he finally said. "And part of me is afraid that they're right. After I...used the fel."

He didn't want to admit it, but that was it. He was terrified that he would live up to all the awful things these Elves and dwarves expected him to be. Afraid that if Medivh lost to the fel, that he had no chance, given long enough. He laughed without humor and shook his head. "Light, can you imagine their faces if they knew I'd already used the fel?"

#

"Even though I'm a warrior, I accompanied Llane as he forged the alliances we have today," Anduin said, begging himself to _not throw up_  on Khadgar. "There wasn't a single race we met that didn't distrust what is different. The only way around that is to force them to really look at you." He put his head down on his knees. He wasn't sure it helped. "The Night Elves aren't the only race who are going to view you with suspicion. Don't let them define you."

Anduin stood up and walked to the railing, clasping his hands out above the water. He put his head down between his arms, looking at the water speeding by below. It helped to see the motion his body was feeling. The moonlight glinted on the ripples as the ship cut its way through. 

He knew Khadgar had always looked to him for approval and praise, but it hadn't seemed to let it stop the mage from doing what he wanted in the past. The fight with Gul'dan must have shaken him more deeply than he'd thought.

 

"And stop worrying about the future," Anduin said, his voice muffled by his elbows. "The thought of it horrifies you. That should tell you enough about who you are."

#

Khadgar set his food aside and stood up, walking to lean against the railing next to Anduin. He felt bad for the other man; he looked miserable.

"You're right," he said, though he'd already known that, already somehow knew that talking to Anduin would make him feel better about all of this. "I guess you're just...better at the politics part of this than me. It's not something I've had to worry about, till now. Sometimes...I can't help but think this is why many of the Guardians lock themselves away, after a while."

Guardians had never been a huge part of the politics of Azeroth. They tried to stay neutral, tried to stay apart from it–which was easier when half of the world you were meant to protect wasn't staring you down with open suspicion.

Medivh had done a lot of damage to the title of Guardian, and now it was up to Khadgar to somehow turn things around.

He looked down at the water with a smile, and then reached over to gently rub Anduin's back. "Sometimes I wish I had as much faith in myself as you have in me."

#

"And we all know how well that turns out," Anduin said in reference to Khadgar's comment about Medivh. 

He had to close his eyes as Khadgar began rubbing his back. It was such an intimate, caring gesture and he hadn't expected the nostalgia that came with it. "That helps," he mumbled.

"And the faith will come," he added. "I have no doubt. You've bossed me around enough, the rest of the world will come just as naturally."

  
#

Khadgar kept up with the light, gentle circles he was rubbing on Anduin's back. "I could have tried a spell to ease the seasickness, but I doubt the crew would approve," he pointed out; it couldn't be that difficult to cast a spell steadying someone's balance enough to cure that.

But now wasn't the time or place.

"So you're calling me bossy?" he asked, though there was a mischievous smile on his face as he raised an eyebrow at Anduin. And really, he supposed he could be–even the first time they met was proof of that. "Sorry, but I think that comes as part of the package," he joked as the spray of the waves leapt up the side of the ship.

#  


"Who's seasick?" Anduin blustered with a light grin. He straightened and turned to Khadgar, with a glance around the deck. There was no one up there, except for the lone crew member at the helm who wasn't facing them. 

He moved forward into Khadgar's space and held his eyes. His voice was pitched low. "You're saying I have the whole package, then, are you, bookworm?"

#

Khadgar laughed. "Sorry, I didn't realize you we're leaning over the rail looking like you were about to throw up just because it's fun," he said, relieved that Anduin had been able to lighten the mood.

Of course, then he had to shift the mood in an entirely different direction, like throwing the ship's wheel to one side. Khadgar's breath caught in his throat for just a moment as he met Anduin's eyes.

"You seem to think you do," he teased, arching an eyebrow at the taller man. And yeah, teasing usually got him into trouble, but in this case he wasn't too worried about that; he didn't bother to put any extra space between them. 

#

"Mm," Anduin agreed. He let his eyes rove over Khadgar's face. The mage was looking at him expectantly, his mouth holding an amused upturn. He leant in–

–and then pushed Khadgar back away from him as the ship bounced over a particularly rough wave. He ran to the railing to heave his kimchi and dumplings into the water. 

A laugh peeled out across the deck, though not unkind. 

"I wouldn't have expected the great Lion of Azeroth to not have sea legs," Thelae said in her slight accent. 

"It's not my legs that are the problem," Anduin groaned, wishing he could perhaps fish his dignity out of the water. 

"Come," she said. "I have tiger lily tea. It will help your stomach."

Anduin sent an apologetically mortified look Khadgar's way, and followed. 

Below deck, she handed him a steaming mug of liquid. "It's kept here," she said, showing him the stash in the cupboard. 

"I know our terms, and we abide by them," he started. "But Khadgar said he had a spell that could–" He hoped that some leniency toward small uses of magic could break the ice between Khadgar and the Elves. 

She shut down. "The Guardian agreed to our terms."

"Yes, of course." Anduin nodded his thanks begrudgingly. She left, and he sat at the table until he felt well enough to retreat to his cabin.

#

Khadgar yelped in surprise as he was suddenly pushed back from Anduin, and managed to land right in his ass on the deck in a pretty undignified manner. Luckily, Thelae's attention was on the ailing Lion of Azeroth as opposed to its unbalanced Guardian.

He got up, though, and gave Anduin a smile that he hoped hid most of his amusement behind supportiveness; he did feel bad. He'd expected to be the one getting sick off the side of the ship.

...on second thought, maybe this was one of the reasons Anduin hated taking portals so much. 

He didn't stay up on deck long after; the seas were getting rough and the sky was darkening. He retreated to his own cabin and managed to get in a few haphazard hours of sleep between nightmares–he wasn't sure it would be wise to flaunt any kind of relationship between regent and Guardian with the Elves present. Anything could upset the delicate situation they were in, with the Elves already looking for reasons to discredit Khadgar to their High Priestess.

Still, even after only one night with Anduin, the bed felt colder.

He tried his best to take Anduin's words to heart; the next morning, when the bell sounded for breakfast, he grabbed a plate and sat at one of the long tables with the crew with a smile, despite the looks he got. 

" _Dieb fandu tal e neph'anis ash'therod_ ," one of them said, and Khadgar quickly realized–the absent emissary knew he spoke Darnassuan. Evidently, the rest didn't.

" _Ala fandu. Aman fulo dur thoribas ri thera shar_ ," another replied, and it took effort for Khadgar to show no reaction, his grip tightening on his cup of water.

" _Lo nor belore u'phol dieb shano tur talah, dath eburi andu_?"

" _Lo. Tal dor du terro nei thero dieb anatura alah dieb dur_."

Khadgar couldn't help it; he chuckled. " _Dor dorini shano tur fal do'rah_ ," he said softly, earning shocked and angry stares from the whole table. Sure, they were angry, but they would have been more angry if he let them keep going without saying anything. 

 

**Translations:**

"He's young for a supposed Guardian."

"Too young. This fool has survived on luck alone."

"Do you actually believe he won't use magic, this whole time?"

"No. And I'll be ready to throw him overboard when he does."

"I would prefer that you didn't."

#

To Anduin's pleased surprise, Khadgar was already sitting in the mess with the Elves when he finally mustered up his courage to face another meal. The tiger lily tea had helped though; it wasn't the same as a spell, but it worked well enough to settle his stomach enough to think about food. 

He gave Khadgar a smile and an encouraging nod, even though he didn't like the grumbling coming from the Elves in Darnassian. He went to cupboards first and began brewing his tea. A couple of the Elves muttered something and smiled at him, but it didn't seem especially mean-spirited, whatever it was, so he merely gave them a grin in return. 

He nudged Khadgar with his elbow when he sat down. "You speak Darnassian, right? Ask them how are soldiers are settling in."

Just then, there was an unholy screech, followed by the ship banking hard to the port. Anduin shot to his feet, along with the Elves. They already had their weapons on them; Anduin cast his gaze over Khadgar. The mage would be unprotected in a fight without his magic. 

Another shriek came from outside, along with a scream that was definitely Darnassian.

"Go to your cabin, lock the door, and stay there," Anduin commanded Khadgar, and darted from the hall to get his sword from his cabin. 

He took the stairs to the deck two at a time. When he got there, it was in chaos; Naga had overrun the entire ship. Most were warriors, but his stomach sank to see female spellcasters among them. They were more dangerous and harder to take out.

"Naga!" He cried. 

He spotted the soldiers from Stormwind fighting on the quarterdeck; they were holding their own so he joined the Night Elf crew fighting at the bow. He jumped into the fray, taking out several Naga before he got hit with a vicious spell that sent him tumbling. 

Thelae was there in an instant, slicing the witch down from behind and giving Anduin a chance to jump back up to his feet. 

"There hasn't been an attack like this in months," she called to him. 

He stomped down hard on a Naga's tail to stop it from going for the captain. The Naga yelled and twisted, claws out, but Anduin was able to duck and slash its serpentine stomach. 

"Guess we're just lucky," he said wryly. 

"Captain!" One of the Stormwind troops came running to them. "The stern is overrun. There's too many of them."

#

Khadgar would have glared at Anduin, if he'd had the opportunity. Like hell was he going to go and lock himself in his room during a battle, magic or no magic. He wasn't _completely_ helpless.

...just mostly.

He followed them up to the deck and immediately had to duck away from the claws of a Naga. It hissed at him, the overwhelming smell of fish coming from its gaping mouth, and Khadgar backed up a few steps and looked up. The rope for the rigging was right above him, three Naga in the path. He reached up and yanked at the rope, and the wooden beam for the rigging swung down and slammed into all three Naga, throwing them off the side of the ship.

But there were a lot more than those three. A whole lot more. And at least three spellcasters that he could see.

Another Naga tackled him from the side and sent him sprawling to the deck, filthy claws slicing into his arm where it grabbed him to administer the deathblow–but then, courtesy of an Elven glaive, the Naga no longer had a head. He heard the Elf mutter something about 'useless humans' as she moved on, leaving him to crawl out from under the fallen body, his clothes splattered with blood–some his own, but mostly the Naga's.

Then, he saw why the Naga were flooding the stern–they'd focused their spellcasters there, and they were protecting them as they were channeling, preparing a spell aimed down the rest of the ship.

He had he feeling if they finished that cast, no one on the deck of this ship would be left alive.

He ran past the Night Elves holding the front line (much to their shock), having already made his decision that the safety of Anduin and the crew of the ship was more important than any promise he'd made to 'behave'. His eyes and hands lit up with vibrant blue arcane flame at the same time the Naga spellcasters finished their cast.

" _Bandu thoribas, anu'dorini talah_!" he yelled, taking all the Naga by surprise. There was a low sound that seemed to travel through the air like a wave, shredding the Naga spell just before it hit the front line of the Darnassian soldiers. " _Xaxas ilisar'thera'nal!_ " he added, throwing a new spell outward–one that killed all the Naga within ten yards of him, and sent the rest either off the deck from the shockwave or slithering for safety in a panic.

Obviously, the Naga didn't expect an Elven boat to have a mage on board.

But before he could relax at the victory and have a look to make sure his arm wasn't bleeding out, someone kicked him in the back of the knees from behind, and then when his knees hit the deck, a strong hand gripped his hair painfully tight, yanking his head back. He started to struggle, but quickly froze when he felt the cool metal of a Naga blood soaked glaive pressed to his throat.

"Traitor!" the night Elf snapped in heavily accented Common.

#

Anduin's heart sank as he heard the familiar, powerful voice call out across the deck, followed by a bright blast of light. 

"Really?" He called out in exasperation. "We're not even to Darnassus!"

This was going to make their visit to the Elves really, really difficult, he reflected.

Looking around, however, it became clear that Khadgar had had no choice; Naga outnumbered the crew and the Stormwind troops at least six to one. Another powerful spell burst forth from the mage, and suddenly they had an advantage.

Anduin took the opportunity to cut down three more Naga, before he heard the word cut across the noise of the fight like a knife: "Traitor!"

He whirled to see Khadgar with a blade against his throat. The fact that it was a Darnassian blade made him thrum with rage. Chopping down another Naga and pushing the body overboard, he leapt over several of the fallen to get to Khadgar and the Elf holding him. 

"What do you think you're doing?" He yelled at her. 

A Naga almost cut her down from behind, she flinched as he dispatched it messily, spraying blood over both her and the mage. He forced himself to draw it back instead of keeping it at her neck. 

"The Guardian just saved our lives," Anduin spat angrily. "This isn't the time.”

#

Khadgar didn't dare try to pull away; he only shifted enough to clamp his left hand over the wounds in his bloodied right arm, seeing stars at the pain as he tried to at least get some pressure on the wound. Wasn't like he could do much else like this–one slip up and his neck would be slit.

"'We did not need the help of a _fal'talarn_ mage to win this battle!" the Night Elf said angrily, using a...well, incredibly impolite word with no direct translation to describe him. "We warned him of this rule!"

"Stand down, sister!" Thelae demanded as the last of the Naga were killed or fled. The Night Elf holding Khadgar sneered, but moved her blade away from his neck and pushed him down to the deck. Thelae stood over him for a moment, seeming almost...torn. Reluctant. It was unlike her. But when she finally spoke, her words were firm.

"We don't execute for first offenses. He did not harm any of our people," she said, and then she nodded to two of her soldiers nearby. "Take him downstairs. He'll be shackled in the brig until we arrive, at which time the High Priestess will grant judgment."

Khadgar really, really wanted to scoff as he slowly stood up. They didn't recognize the danger the Naga spell had posed–and they would never believe him, either. He would do it again, without hesitation, because if he hadn't they would all be dead–but that didn't make the prospect of six days in a cell any more attractive. One of the soldiers started to reach for him, but he gave her a _look_. "I can walk there. I won't give you trouble," he muttered, giving Anduin an apologetic look, because the idea of them dragging him by his bad arm was not at all something he wanted to experience.

The soldier by his uninjured left arm didn't care, and grabbed on tight anyway.

#

Anduin stepped into Thelae's personal space. "What do you think you're doing?" He hissed.

"He broke our agreement." Thelae seemed remorseful as she said it, but it didn't change the fact that Khadgar was bleeding on the deck for stepping into the battle to save them all, and her crew still was intent on dragging him to the wet brig on the bottom deck.

"We're on open water," Anduin pointed out. "We're not in Darnassus."

"The terms were binding the second he set foot on a Darnassian ship," she said in clipped tones. She jerked her head at the Elf holding Khadgar. 

Anduin's fist clenched white-knuckled around his sword, though he kept it pointed at the ground. "This is not the way to start off asking for Stormwind's help. The Guardian is under our protection. I don't care how afraid you are of him, he just saved your lives."

"You need our help as well," Thelae snapped. "Is this the way your people honor contracts?"

White-lipped in anger, Anduin backed down. "Of course not. But you have to have seen that he used his magic from necessity."

Around them, the crew had finally thrown the last Naga corpse overboard. 

Thelae just shook her head at him.

"Do you have a healer on board?" He gritted out. "He's hurt."

Thelae hesitated, then gave a curt nod. "Get Aelyna," she told one of the crew, who then disappeared below deck, but not without first throwing a sneer Anduin's way.

Anduin couldn't quite bring himself to say thank-you. Sharing a look with his troops, who had come to stand behind the emissary, he went below deck to his quarters and punched the wall.

#

Khadgar was not so gently led down to the brig, where the Night Elf leading him pushed him down on a wooden bench inside the cell. He couldn't really say he was surprised–they'd been looking for any excuse to stick him down here, and he'd handed them one, pretty much gift-wrapped with a bow on top. He was a little surprised, though, when a priestess stepped into his cell, gesturing for him to roll up his sleeve.

She was otherwise silent as she held her hands over the claw wounds and said a quick prayer to Elune, and he let out a relieved sigh as the pain faded away and the skin knitted together. He made sure to thank her in Darnassian, and she at least gave him a soft smile before stepping out.

The reprieve was over. The soldier stepped forward again and took an iron manacle chained to the floor and fastened it around one of his ankles, and then she grabbed his wrists and fastened them in front of him in iron cuffs connected by a short length of chain–luckily, none of the restraints were made to bind magic.

"One spell from you and I'll have you gagged, too," she snapped, and Khadgar shook his head in disbelief.

"This is overkill. I told you I'm cooperating."

His words fell on deaf ears. She stepped out and pulled the barred door shut with a loud _clang_ , leaving Khadgar alone in the dim, flickering lamplight. He could tell this was going to be a great six days already–it was cold, wet, and all wood and stone surfaces down here.

#

After a very long and frustrating argument with Thelae, Anduin was eventually given permission to go to the brig with food and water for Khadgar. It was a testament to how badly Darnassus wanted their help that he wasn't thrown in manacles along with Khadgar, but he really wasn't above using that to his advantage. 

The room that housed Khadgar's barred cell was large and damp. The guard who came with him opened the cell so he could give Khadgar the food before locking it up again and leaving them alone. 

Anduin looked with no small amount of anger at the cuffs on Khadgar's wrists. It was too reminiscent of the similar situation they'd found themselves in with the Dark Irons. Finally, he jerked his head at them. "They don't bind your magic, do they?" 

#

Khadgar had been trying to doze sitting up with his back against the wall when he heard his cell door open. He immediately opened his eyes and straightened up, but relaxed when he saw it was Anduin. He wasn't surprised at the anger in Anduin's expression, but he knew it wasn't aimed at him. Not directly, anyway.

"No. Just normal iron," he said, turning one wrist as he studied the cuff. "Technically I could have them off and that door opened in about two second flat, but I doubt that would help the situation."

He'd already gotten them in enough trouble as it was without making his 'captors' even more angry. 

"I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not," he admitted, which at least meant he was feeling more like himself than he had been the past couple of days. "The spell the Naga were casting would have killed anyone on deck who wasn't a Naga. Probably would have put a damper on our side of the fight. Not that the Darnassians would believe me."

#

"Thank you," Anduin said. It wasn't quite enough. 

He sighed, and sat down on the floor, leaning his head back against the bars. 

"We need their help too badly for me to do anything about this," he said, his voice heavy with guilt. He reached into his tunic and pulled out a book he'd gotten from Khadgar's room, shoving it through the bars with a glance over his shoulder. "At least you came prepared."

He shook his head ruefully. "Think they'd notice if you cast that seasickness spell on me now?"

#

Khadgar smiled, reaching out to take the book from him through the bars. "Don't beat yourself up over this. It's not like I'm not used to ending up in a cell," Khadgar joked, obviously an exaggeration, hoping to at least try and make Anduin feel a little better about the situation. They would just have to make the best of it however they could; hopefully the High Priestess would understand how dire the circumstances had been. Khadgar wouldn't have used his magic unless he saw no other possible way out of the situation.

"Probably not, given that they're avoiding me like a plague. Want me to?" he asked Anduin, fully willing to do this one little thing just to spite them and to make Anduin better able to handle the rest of the trip. He set the book aside on the bench, stood up, and stepped up close to the bars, gesturing for Anduin to come closer. "Come over here."

#

Anduin did as he was told, standing and pressing himself to the bars, so close to Khadgar now that he could feel his breath. He gave him a slight smile, cocking his head. 

He wished he could suggest that the mage just port to his room, but he didn't know the guard's schedule and obviously it would be too much of a risk. It seemed so unbearably wrong to see Khadgar locked up, however, especially for this reason. 

There were the Orcs, he mused, who seemed to run on greed and hate; then there was this other, subtler threat to their world: the fear of what was _other._  

And there were so many that were _other_  when you lived on a world like Azeroth.

#

Khadgar pressed on hand gently to Anduin's chest through the bars, and for just a brief moment, he muttered a soft incantation, his eyes and hand barely glowing as he did. It was easy enough, though–a simple tweak to align Anduin's balance with the movement of the ship, a spell that would cancel itself out the moment he stepped on solid ground.

"There. You shouldn't have any more trouble," he said, and then he lifted his chin and leaned forward enough to give Anduin a firm but brief kiss on the lips through the bars. 

"Don't worry about me so much, alright? I'm fine. A little bit of discomfort for a few days won't kill me," he said, and then he smirked. "I mean, at _least_ they didn't throw me on a table and pin me down with a compass."

If that didn't make Anduin laugh, nothing would.

#

Anduin let out an audible sigh of relief when finally, his stomach stopped roiling. You would think that battling Naga and yelling at Night Elves would distract him from the nausea, but you'd be wrong.

Khadgar's kiss was unexpected and welcome; his words coaxed a chuckle from him. 

He met Khadgar's brown eyes with a hint of intensity. "I don't suppose you would also let me in there with you," he suggested.

#

Khadgar paused a moment as he realized what Anduin had asked, and then he laughed. "Oh, that's a great idea. And right when that guard comes back to see what's taking you so long, what's your excuse then?" he asked with a grin. 

That probably wouldn't go over well at all–if the guard came back and found the cell door not only unlocked, but Anduin in here with the prisoner. There was no excuse they could give the High Priestess for that one that was fit for a royal setting.

...not that the idea wasn't tempting.

#

Anduin just grinned at him. "I doubt they'll be back. I told them I could find my way back to my cabin. You may be their prisoner, but I'm still a foreign regent and their guest."

He gave a little laugh. "How is it that you play so strictly by the rules, and yet never manage to follow them?"

He was still leaning into the bars; he reached forward and gave a tug on the small part of Khadgar's tunic that he was able to grab. "Come here," he said.

#

"A foreign regent who just got done yelling at the emissary," Khadgar pointed out. "And if I followed the rules, I never would have gotten into your royal barracks in the first place. Which was kind of easy, by the way."

No, he never planned to stop teasing Anduin about that.

Nonetheless, he let himself be tugged closer to the bars, the iron cuffs on his wrists clanking against the metal of the bars again. "I'm going to need you to sneak me a different book every day if you don't want me going mad of boredom down here," he half-joked.

#

"I seem to remember shutting you up fast enough," Anduin countered. 

Anduin took Khadgar's fingers in his own, tracing over them. He pressed a kiss to his knuckles, then claimed his lips as best he could with the bars between them. 

#

Well, that was true enough. Khadgar still remembered being cut off mid-spell, the way Anduin had watched cautiously until the glowing runes around his hand disappeared before he let go; it was one thing to know how to stop a mage from casting, another thing entirely to have the reflexes and guts to actually do it. 

He returned the kiss eagerly, one hand clasped in Anduin's, the other set on his chest to feel his heart beating. It was comforting in a lot of ways, just knowing that Anduin was here with him, and safe.

"You're making it a lot harder to say no to popping the lock on that door," he said as he broke the kiss for a moment, only partly joking.

#

"Mm," Anduin said easily. "You're being very well-behaved."

He reached through the bars and tugged at the cloth at Khadgar's hips. With both of them pressed forward, he could feel the mage's whole body, albeit with cold, restraining metal in between them.

"Weren't you worried about being bored?" He asked, with a slightly challenging look.

#

As much as Khadgar wanted the contact, the bars were just far enough away that the iron cuff on his ankle was digging in uncomfortably. He stepped half a step back with a wince, biting back a frustrated sigh.

He looked at the stairs to the abandoned storage level above, heard nothing but the sound of water against the outside of the wooden hull–then said one word, and with a light glow, the cell door creaked open a few inches.

"Better hope you're right," he said, raising his eyebrows, his tone a challenge.

#

Anduin raised his eyebrows in surprise, but wasted no time slipping into the cell. 

"See?" He smiled, bending in close to Khadgar. "When it suits you."

He grabbed the mage by his waist and stepped forward so that they were touching; it felt like bliss after having to maneuver around hard metal. He hated that Khadgar had bindings on, but even he felt like that might be pressing their luck. A tryst he could see being forgiven; releasing a prisoner, not as much.

He claimed Khadgar's lips fiercely, pressing his tongue forward to tangle with his. He ran a hand over Khadgar's back, then down to cup his ass.

#

Khadgar wasn't about to take the risk of undoing the bindings too; if they heard someone coming, they could likely get Anduin out of the cell and shut the door quickly, but not so much attach iron cuffs.

He broke the kiss with a smile. "I don't see you complaining," he pointed out, pressing his hands to Anduin's chest and leaning in as close as he could, given his current limitations. 

He made a muffled noise of surprise into the kiss when Anduin's hand grabbed at his ass, but he definitely wasn't complaining. He deepened the kiss with what was almost a whine; and sure, he probably wasn't amazing at kissing yet, but he was learning fast, at least.

#

At Khadgar's noise of encouragement Anduin pushed against him, backing the mage into the wall for support, minding the Light-forsaken chains on his wrists and ankles. He wedged a knee between Khadgar's legs and leaned forward until he found enough friction to make him groan into the kiss. 

He reached under Khadgar's shirt, seeking the waist of his pants. He gave his lower lip a gentle nip and pulled back enough to search his eyes, seeking permission.

#

Khadgar took in a sharp breath as Anduin pressed his knee forward, and he instinctively arched into the touch, fingers clenching in the fabric of Anduin's shirt. This was probably the most ridiculous thing he'd ever done, and yet he already couldn't bring himself to regret it. Not one bit.

He rocked his hips forward against Anduin, not hesitating to nod and give him permission to keep going even as he tugged at the front of Anduin's shirt to pull him into another kiss.

More kissing was probably a good idea, because he wasn't sure how he was going to stay quiet otherwise.

#

Anduin wasted no time dipping his hand into the cloth at Khadgar's waist, the feeling of his skin like a relief. He had _missed_  the mage since the dinner at Stormwind. It seemed like far longer ago than just a couple days. 

He took Khadgar's lips again in his own, sucking on his full bottom lip even as he sought out his length with his palm. When he found it he rubbed along the shaft slowly and encouragingly, even as his own hips bucked forward into the other man's waist. 

It was strange, he thought, how he could feel so much younger, so much _lighter,_  with Khadgar. 

He broke away from the kiss to suck at the other man's neck, recalling how he had responded before to such attention. 

#

Khadgar bucked into Anduin's touch with a groan that was only stifled by the kiss; he could feel his heart racing, a steady pounding in his ears that gave away both his excitement and some amount of nervousness still clinging from inexperience.

And it seemed Anduin had been paying close attention last time, because as he found a sensitive spot on Khadgar's neck, the mage had to cut off a moan by biting down on his lower lip. 

"Anduin," he breathed out, moving his hands down and clumsily pressing against where he felt Anduin's cock straining against the fabric of his outfit. It was hard to focus, though, with Anduin's hand on him like this. 

 

#

Anduin's strokes faltered at Khadgar's inexperienced touch, and he jerked into him with a groan that he muffled into the mage's shoulder.

Recovering, he renewed his grip on Khadgar with vigor, wishing he could get his pants down further around his legs so he could do things properly. His hand was restrained in the fabric, but he rubbed his thumb over Khadgar's leaking head as best he could. 

" _Light,_ Khadgar," he said throatily, working his way with kisses up his neck to the shell of his ear. He caressed the shell of it with his tongue. "The way you say my _name._ "

He found Khadgar's lips again with his own, thrusting into his mouth with his tongue. 

_Calla had been experienced,_  he reflected. She'd known exactly how to touch and what to do. It hadn't been _better,_ just very _different._  Knowing that he would be the one Khadgar learned with was heady. Knowing that the mage was _allowing_  him to do this with him and was so eager despite his lack of knowledge was intoxicating. 

He frantically sought release against Khadgar's body, but the pressure just wasn't quite enough through their clothes. He pulled his hand away from Khadgar and quickly undid his belt, his eyes holding a promise that he would resume his touch in a moment with a grin on his face, freeing his aching cock. 

He took Khadgar again with a firm hold and began to pump. " _Please,_ touch me," he breathed, his voice wrecked.

#

To say Khadgar was encouraged by the sounds coming from Anduin would be an understatement. At the same time, he was trying to desperately stifle the noises he was making himself, knowing that the ship was far from soundproof and the guards would probably investigate absolutely anything they heard from down here.

He shuddered and moaned softly when Anduin's thumb slid over the tip of his cock, then returned the kiss with the same eagerness, moving his hands so Anduin could work on getting his own belt loosened.

"Anduin, please," he said breathlessly, rocking forward into the touch as Anduin's hand wrapped firmly around him again. He took hold of Anduin's cock in a firm grip, sliding his thumb over the head before he began to stroke; it was getting harder and harder to stay quiet as the sensations got more overwhelming. He kissed Anduin almost desperately, suddenly glad he had the wall behind him for support–because his legs were starting to shake, just barely.

#

Anduin thrust eagerly into Khadgar's hand. _Fast learner._  He had a feeling it wouldn't take a lot of practice to get Khadgar comfortable with him. He swallowed Khadgar's noises with his mouth, kissing him deeply as they rocked together. 

"You're doing great," he broke away just long enough to say. Khadgar's touch was rendering him too incoherent to say much more than that. He braced himself with an arm on the wall beside Khadgar's head, forcing himself to keep his eyes open so he could watch Khadgar come undone. 

He wasn't sure if Khadgar had done this before, but if he had, it hadn't been a lot. It was thrilling to look at his face and know that the flush that was there was just for him. 

"Great," he repeated ardently, taking Khadgar's mouth in his and trying his best not to tip them both over. 

#

Khadgar's grip on Anduin stuttered and tightened for a moment as pleasure raced through him and he released into Anduin's hand; he was really, really glad that the kiss had stifled his groan, because it was loud even through that. He sagged backwards against the wall, breaking the kiss to try and catch his breath.

But he definitely hadn't forgotten about Anduin. Less distracted now, he began pumping Anduin's cock again with a tighter grip, his hand moving faster now as he pressed a few light kisses to Anduin's neck.

Yeah, this was definitely worth breaking the rules for a little while.

#

Anduin smiled at Khadgar and let his eyes fall shut, bending over Khadgar's shoulder and giving him better access to his neck.

He wiped his hand as best he could on the inside of Khadgar's pants, reflecting that it was good the mage wore so many layers. With both hands free he braced himself on the wall, surrounding Khadgar with his arms as he worked on Anduin.

Anduin came with an aborted shout a minute later, almost falling into the mage with his release.

Desperately wishing that they weren't in a Light-forsaken cell, he stuffed himself back into his clothes and cinched his belt, giving Khadgar a gentler kiss. He leaned on the wall next to the mage and watched his face, looking for his reaction.

#

Khadgar grinned and pulled Anduin back into another kiss, though this kiss was more tired and lazy than the last. Light, but he could definitely get used to this–minus the cell, of course. And the iron cuffs and chains. That made it a little awkward.

"Do you think you could convince them to at least let you bring me a change of clothes? Seeing as how I've got Naga blood all over me. Among other things," he muttered, though his tone was fond. They'd definitely know he'd magicked his way out of the bindings if they came down here and he was in a clean set of clothes.

He still wasn't happy about having to stay in here for the rest of the trip, but if he had to, he would make the best of it.

#  


Anduin's face darkened briefly, but he nodded. His expression clearly said the change of clothes wasn't going to be a request.  "I hate that you're staying down here," he said. 

He took Khadgar's hand in his, thumb running over the skin just shy of the manacles. 

"They're isolated and fearful," he muttered. 

#

Khadgar smiled, though it was weaker this time. "I knew it would happen the second I decided to cast a spell," he said with a shrug. "Hopefully the High Priestess will understand."

After all, she had specifically requested that he come along for this meeting. He still didn't know why, if her people were so biased against mages and magic, but there had to be a reason–maybe she saw some value in what mages did. Maybe she wanted to start breaking down some of those barriers that her people had built up.

She would have a long fight ahead of her, if that was the case.

"Their people have had a rough time with magic users in their history," he added. "Not that it's an excuse, but it's a reason. Problem is, those Naga were only sloppy in their attack because they assumed there wouldn't be another spellcaster on board who could tell what they were about to do."

#

"Well, there'd be a lot of dead Elves if you weren't here," Anduin commented, pushing off the wall regretfully. "I'll see about your clothes before someone catches me in here."

Anduin kissed him again before leaving, shutting the door to the cell just enough that it appeared shut. 

He passed a guard on the way out who gave him a literal double-take, but he didn't give a care to it. Let them know that they had locked up his lover, and let them worry about it until they reached Darnassus. It was the Darnassians who had come to them for help, not the other way around. 

He had more trouble with his soldiers, who gathered around his cabin, waiting for an update after the Naga attack. 

"Is it true they locked up the Guardian?" One of them asked. 

The others gave him incredulous looks. He guessed he looked more mussed than he'd thought. 

"We had an agreement he wouldn't use his magic, but we'd be dead if he hadn't," Anduin said gruffly, going into Khadgar's cabin to grab his change of clothes. "You fought well," he added, giving them pats on their shoulders, and going to find Thelae.

Behind him, to his astonishment, he heard one of them mutter, "First that Orc, now an Elf?"

And: "Think it was the emissary, or the captain?"

He was so stunned he stumbled a step on his way up the stairs. 

He found Thelae in the mess. He held up the clothes. "I'd like to bring the Guardian a change of clothes," he said. "He's covered in Naga blood as well as his own, from saving your crew."

Thelae leveled him with an even stare. "You're very demanding."

"You're treating an invited guest like a criminal."

To his surprise though, she only looked weary as she waved a hand in approval. He took a closer look at the table, and realized it was a glass of spirits she had in front of her, mostly empty. 

Unsure what that meant, he scrammed before she could change her mind, heading back down to the brig. 

#

Khadgar wasn't sure how long it would take Anduin to talk his way through this and return, so he laid down on the bench in the cell with a sigh, not even bothering to try and get comfortable–he knew it wasn't happening. Cells weren't meant to be comfortable.

He wondered if any of the Elves had any idea what kind of danger they'd been in from that spell, let alone if any would believe him when he tried to explain.

He began to wonder if he'd inadvertently sabotaged this diplomatic mission. But it wasn't as if he could stand by and do nothing; and if he hadn't come along at all, Anduin would be dead right now, along with the crew of this ship. He shuddered at the thought of being stuck in Stormwind, waiting to hear word of Anduin's trip and instead hearing nothing but the silence of a ship lost at sea.

No. He'd done the right thing, whether or not it gave them the disadvantage in negotiations.

He heard footsteps, too heavy to be one of the Elven guards, and he opened his eyes and lifted his head a little. "That was quick," he said when he saw Anduin had returned. He sat up slowly, the motion a little tougher without being able to use his hands.

#

"I think the emissary might be having a twinge of conscience," Anduin said dryly, pushing open the gate and handing him the clothes. "I'm not sure how you think you're getting these on with those restraints, unless you're willing to use your magic again."

He shook his head and sat on the bench, putting down the pillow he'd brought with him. "I'm not being the best at holding up the title of regent," he laughed. "Llane was always so rigid about the rules and protocols. When you're on the battlefield as much as I've been, it all just seems petty."

He let his head fall against the wall, remembering. "If the Orcs hadn't held onto their traditions, though, the Mak'gora would have held no meaning, and I would probably be lying dead on that Orc battlefield."

He shook his head with a quick glance at Khadgar. "Sorry."

He was struggling between his personal feelings of outrage and protectiveness and obeying the laws set by needed allies. Yet another reason he should never have started this with the mage, but now that he had, he wasn't sure he could stop it. If he lost this, too–if he lost Khadgar–he didn't think he'd have much left.

#

"You got permission. They're going to have to forgive me on this one. I smell like rancid fish in these clothes," Khadgar muttered, following it up with a short incantation. The restraints snapped free, and he rubbed his wrists where the iron had been clamped around them. But when Anduin kept talking, he stepped over to the regent and grabbed his hands.

"Hey. You're doing the best you can," he pointed out earnestly. "King Llane grew up in this life. They prepared him for it. He got to watch his father lead for decades before he took over the kingdom. You couldn't have known it was to be expected of you one day. We...we all expected that Varian would be old enough to take the throne when....well. You know."

He couldn't recall a time in the entire history of Stormwind that he'd read when the commander of Stormwind's army was thrust into the role of king. Queens had taken over at times, and sometimes princes as young as 13, but never someone plucked from the highest ranks of the army.

It would be unfair to expect him to be perfect at it.

He kissed Anduin just for a moment before he pulled away and started to change into clean clothes. "If Gul'dan gains much more power, the Orc traditions may not hold up for long. We can only hope Garona is able to keep some kind of balance," he said softly. "Either way, don't be so hard on yourself. You're doing everything you can for your people."

#

Anduin returned the kiss, blinking at him. He'd never have guessed the mage he'd caught in the barracks, who he'd been so sure was merely a boy, would turn out to be this thoughtful, composed Guardian. 

It was strange how he'd shied away from this sort of conversation for so many years, and yet he felt easy being serious with Khadgar.

Anduin wasn't sure how to articulate his thoughts on the matter, or even if he should–sometimes it seemed as if the world was listening for him to define what was important to him so that it could take it away.

Finally shying away from the moment, he changed topic, gesturing between them. "Did you always want this?" He asked Khadgar curiously. 

#

Khadgar had just finished getting his pants on when Anduin asked, and he felt himself blushing all over again. Light, how long had he wanted this? He almost wondered if he always had, and it just took him a while to realize it.

"Not at first, considering I was more worried about the fel, and you were…kind of an ass," he teased with a smile, still remembering Anduin's tendency to laugh at the mage's expense, especially in the beginning. He still remembered getting dropped nearly from the ceiling of Medivh's library and reaching for help up only to get left there on the floor– _thanks_ , Anduin.

He tugged the clean shirt on and sighed with relief at the feeling of not wearing clothes splattered with Naga blood. "But...it's been a long time. I just...never actually planned to tell you," he added the last part in a self-conscious mutter, because sometimes he still wondered what Anduin saw in him, still wondered why the Lion of Azeroth would pick him, of all people, to spend his time with like this.

#

Anduin smiled back at Khadgar. His personality was a result of years of honing, a combination of a predisposition toward troublemaking, a shield against letting anyone close to his vulnerabilities, and a desire to force those he saw as weak to become stronger and self-sufficient. He wouldn't apologize for that; he'd seen Khadgar come into his own once forced to make his own decisions. It was his way of protecting those around him.

"And why is that?" He asked. He had his guesses–shyness, fear of rejection–but he wasn't certain.  Maybe he was still skittish himself, and wanted to hear Khadgar give him a valid reason why he'd made another bad decision. His sister had encouraged this, but she had also encouraged Callan to go to war.

Stopping what they'd started now, of course, would feel like ripping his own heart out. 

#

Khadgar looked like a deer staring down a nightsaber for a moment–he hadn't really thought Anduin heard that last bit, let alone expected him to ask about it. He was obviously caught off guard, and that 'mature Guardian in training' gave way once again to the insecure mage who couldn't manage to meet Anduin's eyes.

What was he supposed to say? That he thought he wasn't good enough for Anduin? It would be the truth, in a way.

"I just...didn't think you would be interested in...someone like me," he decided on, reluctantly, snapping the iron cuff around his ankle once again. It was a good excuse to not have to make eye contact for the moment. He picked up the iron cuffs for his wrists, but didn't put them on quite yet; he knew once they were on, they were going to stay on for a long time. "I'm no warrior. The first actual battle I saw was when the Orcs attacked us in the forest. I didn't think..."

_I didn't think I had a chance with you._

He figured he didn't need to finish the thought; he studied the cuffs in his hands, not sure how Anduin was going to react–he wouldn't be surprised if he teased him. He wouldn't be upset either, though–it would be just like him to laugh it off.

#

Anduin kicked himself mentally.  Of course the question would have exactly this result. He'd thought that maybe sleeping together twice would have given Khadgar more confidence about his interest in him, but it wasn't as if their encounters had been especially romantic.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Anduin asked, perplexed. "My wife wasn't a warrior." He cringed at himself for bringing her up, now. "But you're wrong, either way. You've faced down true danger heroically, every time it's needed."

He stood up, hating the manacles Khadgar was examining. He took his hands in his own. "You've been a friend." Anduin tried to get in his line of vision. "It's not about all these things you're worried about. Not for me." He laughed. "Should I be worried you like me only because I'm Stormwind's regent, or because they call me the Lion of Azeroth? Am I just a warrior to you?"

#

Khadgar flinched. "Of _course_ not," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument on that one. Anduin was one of the bravest, kindest men he knew–and if he was a little rough around the edges, it hardly mattered. It wasn't like a 'perfect warrior' would put up with Khadgar's constant bending of the rules and whatnot, even if he had interest in that.

He finally looked up at Anduin. "What if...people don't approve of this? Of us? We won't be able to keep this secret forever," he asked, and then he chuckled. "'It's not so much a problem for me. I'm already a pariah of sorts. But I...I don't want to compromise your position. The respect people have for you. I know right now the politics are...tenuous."

It wasn't really the best time to be hammering out the details on this, but there wasn't going to be a better time, not when there was a war going on. He needed to know. "If you need to put your people first, I understand. And I wouldn't hold it against you," he added, giving Anduin the opportunity to make the decision for himself–to bow out gracefully, if he thought their relationship would adversely effect the war efforts and diplomacy with other groups.

#

Anduin tilted his head. "What's a secret? And what's there to disapprove of?" He laughed. "The people aren't looking to me for an heir. Varian is in line for the throne, and his sister after him. My bloodline isn't needed to ensure the royal line."

He gestured to the ship. "Just because these other races don't understand our people, or your power–that has nothing to do with us." Anduin hesitated, then added, "Well, perhaps a little to do with us. But only as we conduct ourselves on their shores. They're afraid of you. They're afraid of someone as powerful as you." 

Anduin looked back to him, frustrated now that he was hearing what was going on in Khadgar's head. It made him feel like he _was_  making a bad decision, just in ways he hadn't even thought about. Unable to help it, he felt his face fall into a concerned frown. "I can't think of a better partner for a regent than the Guardian of Azeroth," he said stubbornly, but the damage was done. He kept his eyes on Khadgar's face. The mage often saw things he didn't, and he was wondering how much truth there was to Khadgar's words.

#

"I don't know that they're afraid of me, specifically. I think they'd treat any other mage the same," Khadgar pointed out, feeling bad at having put that _look_ on Anduin's face. His own uncertainties and insecurities were bothering Anduin now, it seemed, and that was the last thing he wanted.

He laughed and shook his head, looking down to clasp the iron cuffs back in place on his wrists; the dark metal was heavy and uncomfortable, but at least they weren't made to bind his powers. "It all had to get so complicated, didn't it?" he asked, wishing that King Llane could have lived. That Medivh could have lived. If he could have just saved the Guardian from his own corruption, this would all be so much simpler.

But he hadn't had the strength, or the knowledge. He wondered if anyone did.

"Well, I'm at your side, no matter what. You know that," he added, looking back up at Anduin–and then he smiled. "Well, not so much right now, seeing as I'm in the brig for this journey, but well. We both know I can get out of here if you need me to. I'm not sure why they're bothering, since they have to be aware of that, too."

#  


A rush of warmth followed Khadgar's words. Not for the first time, he wondered what he'd done to inspire such loyalty in the Guardian of Azeroth of all people. He was used to people's hero-worship, and he knew his troops were loyal to him, but that was less personal than what Khadgar seemed to mean by his offer. 

Anduin brought up a thumb to brush at Khadgar's cheek. "Maybe they're seeing if you'll behave," he murmured. "Perhaps they want to know if you'll obey their ridiculous orders on your own, or flaunt them because you can."

He gave Khadgar a smile, a bare flicker of his teeth. "Thank you, for thinking of our people. I am _sorry_  for this. I'm sorry I can't get you out of it.

"You're a better man than me," he added. "I've never been a very good prisoner. Light knows Llane threw me in the barracks more than once. I pity the guards as much as they pitied me."

#

Khadgar leaned into the touch much like a cat would. "Either that or they just enjoy seeing me in chains," he said, lifting his hands and tugging at the chain between them. 

He leaned in and kissed Anduin, letting it linger for a few moments. "You don't need to apologize. This isn't your fault," he pointed out, and then he grinned. 

"I'll bet if you ended up in a Stormwind cell again, the guards would draw straws on who had to risk ending up a sheep," he pointed out with mischief in his eyes. He wondered if that guard ever forgave him for that, given the circumstances.

He _had_ apologized. To the sheep, anyway. But from what he understood, the polymorphed were aware of their surroundings, so it counted in his book. 

#

Anduin grinned. "Ah, yes. The real reason for this. So I have someone to get me out of the barracks." He laughed. "Except I'm not sure even Taria could throw me in there now. I can be as unruly and drunk as I want at war councils."

He kissed Khadgar again, more deeply than the mage had. He ran his tongue over his lower lip before pulling back. "These Elves don't realize how lucky they are they aren't manning a boat with livestock."

#

"I figured you had ulterior motives," Khadgar said with a grin, leaning into the kiss; he remembered fondly the amusement on Anduin's face when he saw the guard-turned-sheep and realized what Khadgar had done.

He wondered how many of the Elves it would actually work on. Sometimes it was hard to tell until you'd started the cast if it was going to work on someone. 

"And admit it. If your sister ordered you taken to the barracks, you'd probably end up there anyway because she's slightly terrifying when she's angry," he joked.

#  


"She's not the Queen for nothing," Anduin agreed lightly. 

He hadn't missed the way Khadgar had preened under his thumb; he threaded his fingers in the mage's thick hair and massaged his scalp gently. He watched him fondly for a moment before saying, "Sit, and turn with your back to me."

It occurred to him that sex might not be the only human touch Khadgar had been missing from his life. 

#

Khadgar closed his eyes as Anduin threaded his fingers through his hair; he hadn't expected that to feel as good as it did. 

He opened his eyes and gave Anduin an almost suspicious look at the request. "Why...?" he asked, but he was already moving, because...well, he trusted Anduin, no doubt.

He sat down on the wooden bench, adjusting the cuffs to be as comfortable as possible on his wrists–which wasn't very comfortable, but every little bit helped.

#  


Anduin smiled at the wariness in Khadgar's voice, but didn't say anything as he settled behind him and put his hands on his shoulders. He began rubbing out the tension he found there–probably a decade's worth, at the least. He doubted Khadgar had gotten a massage from anyone else in his life.

He leaned forward until his lips barely tickled Khadgar's ear. "Because I want to do terrible things to you," he said, laughter in his voice.

His strong warrior's hands found the knots in Khadgar's muscles and began working them out.

#

Khadgar tensed at first, unsure what Anduin was doing, but when he realized he quickly relaxed into the touch. Practically melted into it, in fact.

"If this counts as 'terrible', you can feel free to keep doing terrible things to me," he said, eyes closing as he leaned back into Anduin's hands.

He groaned as Anduin's thumb hit a particularly tense spot and started massaging it out. " _Light_ , that's nice."

#

"Just tell me if you'd like it differently," Anduin said in a low voice.

He moved lower on Khadgar's back. 

"So what did you do, while you were on your own, on the run from the Kirin Tor?" Anduin asked. He'd always been curious about that; Khadgar had seemed so desperate for approval when they'd met, but it took a lion's share of guts to stand up to the very people who practically owned you. 

#

Khadgar wasn't sure how he was supposed to form coherent thoughts and sentences when Anduin was doing _that_.

"Had to put distance between myself and Dalaran. And I couldn't let my shielding spells drop, or they would have just found me and ported me back for an abandonment trial," he explained, remembering those panicked first days, when he'd still been unsure he was doing the right thing. Unsure he could actually succeed. "I don't think I slept for...four or five days."

He bit his lip to half stifle a groan, arching into the touch. "After that, I mainly followed any signs of the fel, or any rifts that would indicate a tear in our dimension. Everything was so scattered, though, so unpredictable...I didn't get far with it before I investigated that body at the barracks. Before that, it was just rumors. Echoes of magic that were already fading..."

He snorted. "The Kirin Tor eventually stopped actively looking for me. They just put out a 'wanted' notice and wrote me off."

#

"You may not be a warrior, Guardian, but you are a fighter," Anduin murmured affectionately. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss into the side of Khadgar's neck. 

Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps outside the room where Khadgar's cell was. Anduin cursed under his breath and hastily stood up, nearly tripping over himself to get outside the gate and shut it in time.

The Night Elf guard appeared just as he got the bars closed, leaning against them nonchalantly. She looked at both Khadgar and Anduin suspiciously and said a long chain of Darnassian that Anduin couldn't make heads or tails of. 

#

Khadgar wanted to groan in frustration when the moment was shattered by footsteps–but luckily, Anduin got himself on the other side of the bars and the door closed before the guard entered.

"Nor alah'ni da ala diel rini ala ethala."

"She says there's damage to the ship from the fight," Khadgar translated for Anduin before giving the Night Elf an odd look. "Al osa banthalos. Al dath nei aman ash man'ar dorithur al mush."

"Fal talah alah'ni. Dor talah."

Khadgar expression turned to one of deep concern. "...dor talah?"

"Su," the Night Elf went to the cell door and opened it up. "Nor shari'fal turus ash nei t'as'e no mush."

"She says it's magic damage. Dark magic," Khadgar said to Anduin as the Night Elf uncuffed his ankles, but left his hands bound as she pulled him to his feet. "The captain evidently wants me to have a look."

Strange, how they were now looking to their 'prisoner' for his knowledge.

#

"Of course she does," Anduin said with a dry look at Khadgar. 

He murmured to him as he passed, "Perhaps this will be good, that they will see how you use your magic."

He waited until the guard and Guardian both had passed, and fell into step behind them, protectively.

#

Khadgar thought it was more likely that they would blame his magic for the damage, but he didn't say that out loud. He let the Night Elf lead him up to the deck of the ship, where the captain, the emissary, and a few other Elves stood by a railing that was twisted and burnt. The deck beside it was scorched and scratched as if by fire–but in the gouges in the deck, there was a bright green glow.

Khadgar's heart skipped a beat. Fel.

He knelt next to it and held one hand palm–down over the damage, the chain to the other wrist pulling taut. He prepared to do a scrying spell, but the moment he started his incantation and his hand and eyes started to glow, a hand clamped down on his arm.

"'What are you doing?" the captain snapped, her grip tight enough to be painful. Khadgar glared up at her.

"You can't analyze or fight magic without using magic. If you want to know if this is dangerous, I need to use my magic to find out."

#  


Anduin stepped forward, removing the captain's hand forcibly from Khadgar's hand. She stared at him in disbelief as sever of her crew pointed glaives in his direction.

"Look at him," he snapped. "He's wearing your irons. Look how much good they do. He's locked himself in your brig, on your orders, wearing those manacles, all for saving your ship. Each of us would be dead if the Guardian hadn't used his magic."

Anduin wasn't exactly sure if that were true, but he felt it must be–why else would Khadgar have risked negotiations? He trusted him. 

"We understand we broke your terms, but I hope it's clear to you he only did it under duress, for your benefit." Anduin cast what was obviously a fearful glance at the green glow marring the ship. After what had happened with Gul'dan, he didn't want Khadgar anywhere near it. 

The captain looked taken aback. She looked between Khadgar and Anduin, then to Thelae. 

Thelae nodded her head, imperceptibly. 

"This is the magic of the Orcs," Anduin forged on. "It's destroying our lands. You need to let Khadgar fix this."

_If he can,_  was the small, worried thought at the back of his head.

Thelae touched her captain's arm lightly. "If the King is afraid of it..." she said gently. 

"We've faced this before. We saw normal Orcs be corrupted. It's powerful, the infected we faced were terrible in their might, but they were sick with it, just as the land was sick with it. You don't want this on your ship, Captain."

She motioned her crew to lower their weapons. Anduin fell back, releasing her arm. 

They didn't, Anduin was furious to notice, release Khadgar's manacles. 

"Go on," she said to Khadgar.

#

Khadgar felt a rush of warmth at Anduin's passionate defense of him; he was so used to being on his own for so long, the only person to speak up for himself, that it was touching in so many ways that the regent of Stormwind would speak for him now. He gave Anduin an appreciative smile, and then he turned back to the damaged portion of the deck. He didn't fail to notice the stiffening of each of the Night Elves as his hand and eyes glowed again, and he quickly put up an unseen shield to protect himself from the fel energies even as he used his magic to examine them.

What he discovered made him draw back with a sharp intake of breath.

"This wasn't done by a Naga," he said, which was both bad and good–good, because if the Naga started using the fel, that would make them immensely more powerful.

But bad as well. Very bad.

"This was used against the Naga spellcasters' spell," he explained; whoever used this magic to attack one of the Naga had done so hastily. In a panic. An unpracticed user of magic, then. "And seeing as there are no Orcs on this ship, someone on board has been toying with the fel."

"How dare you accuse my soldiers of such a thing," the captain snapped. "You are a magic user. You know this 'fel' magic. It is more likely your magic that you cannot properly control."

#  


Anduin wasn't wearing his sword, and that was a good thing, because his hand twitched to where it was usually kept. He cast a swift but thorough glance around the deck, stepping in close to Khadgar. 

"Are you sure?" He murmured low, under his breath.

But of course he was. He glanced up to Thelae. She was looking just as apprehensively as he was at her crew. 

"Careful," he said, loudly, his voice carrying over the ship. "Your High Priestess requested the Guardian's presence as well as mine. As it is, I do not think she will look kindly at how you've treated your potential allies. This is the very corruption our peoples need to work together to defeat."

Likely from having heard the commotion, the four guards from Stormwind came up from the lower decks. Their hands went to their swords when they saw the standoff between their regent and Guardian and the Elves. Anduin waved them down. 

He glanced back at Khadgar. "What do you need to do to cleanse this?" 

#  


Khadgar shook his head and looked up at Anduin. "I can cleanse it, yes, but I'm...actually not sure it's a good idea," he said, his voice low enough that only those nearest–Thelae, the captain, and Anduin–could hear him. "It's not dangerous in its current state. It's residue. An echo of a spell. It can't harm or be used to harm. But if left, we can use it to give the Darnassian guard and High Priestess an example of what they're looking for when they fight these Orcs."

He sat back on his heels. "It could even give their priestesses a chance to test their own healing energies on it, to see if they can find a way to cleanse it using the Light of Elune. If they don't want magic in their cities, that's something they need to figure out."

"I don't care. I don't trust it, and I don't want it on my ship," the captain said in her accented Common. "'You say it is dangerous, yet you wish to leave it there?"

"The fel is dangerous," Khadgar corrected her. "But what is more dangerous is ignorance. Your people need to know what they're up against, especially if one of your own might already be toying with that power."

The captain sneered. "You accuse my people once more, _mage_ , and I will have you thrown off the side of this ship in those bindings."

#  


"You touch him and you'll go first," Anduin snapped, stepping between the Captain and Khadgar. "Azeroth needs the Guardian more than we need your alliance."

That much he was sure was not his own personal feelings interfering with politics. It was the simple truth. The world had needed Medivh, and now it needed Khadgar just as much. There was no one else to stand against Gul'dan. The Kirin Tor were not doing anything, and Light knew that Anduin couldn't fight magic that powerful with just his sword. 

"Captain," Thelae, to Anduin's vast surprise, also stepped between Khadgar and the angry Darnassian. "Your role on this ship is to transport the humans to our capitol, to the High Priestess, at her request. It is also to escort me." She switched to a stream of Darnassian that Anduin couldn't follow. 

The captain obviously didn't like what was said, however, as her glare darkened and her eyes narrowed. 

Thelae's gaze swept over Anduin and Khadgar, then back to the captain. 

"Your ship and crew have been invaluable to Darnassus," Thelae said in Common. "You know that we value your expertise on these waters. But handling any issues that arise with our honored guests is for me to do, not you." She cast a wary glance at the fel. "I too would like to see how our people handle this foul magic."

#

Khadgar could have kissed Anduin right about then, but obviously it wasn't really the time. Later, though. Later he would tell Anduin how much he appreciated that.

But Thelae defending him came as a complete surprise; he gave Anduin a shocked look as the Night Elf stepped forward, as if to make sure he wasn't imagining this.

The captain glared at them for a few long, tense moments, but then finally relented. "Fine," she said. "If there is, as you say, one of my crew 'corrupted', then surely you can use your all-powerful magic to find out which one," she said, and Khadgar sighed.

"It doesn't work like that, or I would have known about the previous Guardian's duplicity much sooner," he pointed out, ignoring the smug look from the captain at having found something he couldn't do. "When it is used, I can counter it. But I can't do anything until they're channeling the fel."

"Well then," the captain said, waving to two of her soldiers. "If this is not going to be cleansed, and you can do nothing more to find our traitor, then there is no more use for you on deck. Sisters, take him back to the brig." 

Somehow, Khadgar had a feeling that was coming.

#

Anduin made no move to hide how he pinched the bridge of his nose. Thelae didn't do anything to stop Khadgar from being led belowdeck, though, so in order to keep her favor he held back from protesting. 

Khadgar, bless him, went without argument. 

Somehow this was not how he imagined the voyage to Darnassus going. 

Thelae nodded to him, her face thoughtful, and she went with the captain to the quarterdeck, talking in quiet Darnassian. 

Anduin went over to the Stormwind soldiers. "Keep an eye on the crew," he told them in an almost inaudible tone. "And watch the captain. I don't trust her."

They nodded their agreement, and took up posts around the deck. 

Anduin went to his cabin, and strapped his sword back on. He didn't like wearing it among a supposedly friendly host, but between the Naga and the fel his nerves were on edge. After a moment of thought, he grabbed his armor, and his repair kit, and headed back down to the brig, where he stared down the guard until she let him in with an audible sigh.

#

Khadgar went willingly below deck with the two guards, though he could tell that neither was happy to be among those he accused of toying with the fel. They put him in the cell and tightened all his restraints, as if it would somehow impede his escape. He wasn't paying that much attention, though; he was more concerned about Anduin.

So he was happy to see him when he came downstairs, sword and all. He nodded in approval. "Anduin," he said, standing up and starting toward the bars–and almost falling on his face when he reached the end of the ankle chain, which had evidently been shortened. He glared at it before looking back up at Anduin. "It's only to the benefit of our mystery traitor that I'm down here. Even if I hear an attack, it will delay me getting to you."

He was testing Anduin, trying to see if the warrior came to the same conclusion that he had.

#

"Don't worry about me, spell–chucker," Anduin said, giving the chains and restraints a contemptuous glance. He gave Khadgar a quick, reassuring smile. "I can handle myself." 

Even though they were alone, he leaned closer to the bars.  "I have our guards watching the deck." He sent a glance toward the doorway, but it remained closed and quiet. "And I think our friend the emissary might be keeping an eye on things as well." 

#

"I worry for whoever is trying to use the fel. That magic was conjured in a panic. They're sloppy," Khadgar explained, pacing as best he could when he was chained to the floor. "They're in over their head. If they try again, they might inadvertently do much more than break a railing."

They had to have some kind of source. He didn't see a demon wasting time on a non–magic user–the traitor was probably using a cursed object or talisman they'd found after a battle.

Khadgar was afraid to even sleep, with some half-controlled fel flinger sleeping somewhere above him.

#

Anduin frowned. "You can't do anything while you're in there, but is there something I can do? Something I should be looking for?"

He shook his head at Khadgar. "And for the love of the Light, stop pacing. You're making me seasick again."

#

Khadgar sighed. "There's not really anything you can do," he said, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair–a nervous gesture that got cut off painfully short when the chained cuff yanked at his wrist. "Unless they use the fel, here's no way of knowing who it is. Though...I have my suspicions."

He reluctantly stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of the wooden bench. "I wonder if there's more to this than we know. The advantage to our enemies of having the King of Stormwind and the Guardian on a ship in the middle of the ocean, with someone wielding the fel...we can't call that coincidence."

#

Anduin snorted. "You'd think they'd be better prepared. Those bindings aren't doing anything other than annoying you. This whole thing's for show."

Then he frowned suddenly. "Unless they aren't planning to take us to Darnassus."

Anduin dropped his armor. "I need to speak to Thelae," he said. "And possibly that captain of ours."

He ran from the brig, slowing as he reached the top of the stairs that led to the deck, when suddenly he was grabbed from behind by two of the Night Elf crew. He tried to throw them off but their larger build had them at an advantage, as did the glaives at his neck. They said something in Darnassian, but oddly, they seemed nervous about their actions, not hostile.

He got out an aborted shout, but it was too brief to alert the guards before a strong, soft hand covered his mouth.

A dark shape appeared against the sky at the top of the steps. He wasn't surprised when it turned out to be the captain of the Shadow's Fall, a grim smile on her face. "You figured it out," she said, in Common. 

#

Khadgar shouted at Anduin to wait, but he was already out the door. He didn't like the idea of Anduin talking to the captain alone, or even with Thelae present, but he was trying not to push their luck by breaking his bindings again.

Until he heard a short scuffle and a cut-off shout from above him.

He immediately tried to break the restraints holding him, but they suddenly flooded with green light the moment his arcane magic started to flow, and he dropped down in agony. Then he remembered–the captain, with her hand on his arm on deck–she had time to weave something into these restraints that hadn't been there before. And since he was already focused on the existing fel presence, he had missed it entirely.

"Anduin!" he yelled, trying again to force through the magic on the cuffs on his wrists, but it only left him gasping as they seared his skin.

Above them, the captain tilted her head at the sound of the cry from below. "Sounds like your mage has figured it out, too. A pity," she said. "He won't be able to break free so easily now. And in the meantime, we're going downstairs, and you're going to tell me all about Stormwind's plans against the Orcs and the fel–or I really will drown your precious mage, and kill you. And don't expect any help from that irritating emissary. She's...tied up at the moment. And these guards are under my control, unfortunately for them." 

#

Anduin flat-out laughed at her. "Our plans for the Orcs and the fel? You want to know our strategy?" He shook his head. He could only wish they had an offensive strategy, but since the battle that killed King Llane, Stormwind's resources had been depleted, and they were forced to go on the defensive. 

His plan had been to rally the support of the nearby kingdoms, and Darnassus, when that opportunity had fortuitously presented itself. But Stormwind hadn't heard from the Dark Irons, unless they visited Taria in his absence, and the other races were still reluctant to join them, despite their pledges to do so. 

"Is something funny?" The captain bit out. She jerked her head at the guards and they forced him with painful grips on his hair to go downstairs to where they held Khadgar.

Anduin choked off a cry when he saw him. Obviously in pain, Khadgar was bent over, his wrists glowing green with fel light. 

"What did you do?" He gasped at the captain.

She didn't even smile at him. "Your plans or the mage dies. We know what he means to you, regent."

"We plan to send mages to the gate Gul'dan is opening," Anduin said, lying through his teeth. "They will be powerful enough to destroy him."

He got backhanded for his effort. "You expect me to believe that?"

#

Khadgar made a strangled noise as they dragged Anduin into the room, the captain close at his heels. He tried once again to cast, his eyes glowing blue only for a moment before the pain was too much and his whole body shook from the effort.

"You must think I'm stupid," the captain said, circling Anduin like a nightsaber might stalk prey. "'I know your reputation for cunning on the battlefield. Your unorthodox tactics. I want to know everything." 

She gestured toward Khadgar. "'This is only a hint of the power available to me," she said, and as she gestured, Khadgar saw a flicker of green at her wrist catch the light.

The talisman. It had to be that bracelet she wore. Nothing else would react to the fel like that.

"Anduin," he started to call out, but then with one gesture, a clear barrier with a greenish tint shot up just inside of the bars–and he found he couldn't hear them. And that meant Anduin couldn't hear him, either.

"For every time you disrespect me with lies, I'll raise the stakes," the captain snapped, and with another gesture, the bottom of Khadgar's cell started filling up rapidly with a greenish water that smelled of smoke. He struggled to his feet, watching as it pooled at his feet and lapped up against the barrier she'd created. She smirked at Anduin. "I told you I'd drown your mage, and I meant it, _Regent_."

 

 


	6. Sixth Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fel surfaces on the ship to Darnassus; Khadgar and Anduin run into personal problems; and Tyrande Whisperwind makes an appearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting early as an apology for the cliffhanger :)

Khadgar made a strangled noise as they dragged Anduin into the room, the captain close at his heels. He tried once again to cast, his eyes glowing blue only for a moment before the pain was too much and his whole body shook from the effort.

"You must think I'm stupid," the captain said, circling Anduin like a nightsaber might stalk prey. "'I know your reputation for cunning on the battlefield. Your unorthodox tactics. I want to know everything." 

She gestured toward Khadgar. "'This is only a hint of the power available to me," she said, and as she gestured, Khadgar saw a flicker of green at her wrist catch the light.

The talisman. It had to be that bracelet she wore. Nothing else would react to the fel like that.

"Anduin," he started to call out, but then with one gesture, a clear barrier with a greenish tint shot up just inside of the bars–and he found he couldn't hear them. And that meant Anduin couldn't hear him, either.

"For every time you disrespect me with lies, I'll raise the stakes," the captain snapped, and with another gesture, the bottom of Khadgar's cell started filling up rapidly with a greenish water that smelled of smoke. He struggled to his feet, watching as it pooled at his feet and lapped up against the barrier she'd created. She smirked at Anduin. "I told you I'd drown your mage, and I meant it, _Regent_."

#

Anduin hadn't survived on the battlefield as many times as he had without being observant.  Just before the captain silenced Khadgar, he caught the way he'd stared at the captain's waist...no...

... _her wrist._  There was the slightest glint of green as she turned her hand to cast at Khadgar. 

"Fine," he snapped, to buy some time. "Do you want to know the truth? We're sailing far away from a city that needs us present to ask for the help of your people, if you can still call them that. Why do you think that is?"

There was a sudden commotion from the hallway. Unaccented Common mingled with Darnassian shouts. 

_Their guards._ Light bless them. In the barest moment of distraction, Anduin let himself become deadweight. The guards stumbled, not expecting the shift in balance, and he heaved upward, managing to throw one of the Elves off. 

The other held on like a vise.

"Not a good choice–" The Captain snarled. 

Anduin let out a mighty yell and jumped off the floor, using the guard as a counterweight as he hit the captain in the stomach with both booted feet. The guard holding him had her glaive up, and he only just managed to duck. 

He yanked her forward, though, and she had to let go of him or risk impaling her captain. He drew his sword swiftly, and hit her over the head hilt-first. She fell, deadweight, and he turned his attention to the captain.

She began to cast. Unfortunately for her, she hadn't expected him to figure out her secret, and left her arm wide open. He feinted, and kicked at her again. She blocked him, and as her arms went forward, he spun and grabbed her wrist before she could yank it back. 

He slammed it into the metal bar of Khadgar's cell, and when that didn't work, slammed his sword over it. Finally it shattered as she clawed at him. 

  
#

Khadgar really, really didn't like the fact that he was trapped in rising water and couldn't hear what was going on out there. When he saw Anduin drop and then throw off a guard, he tried once more to break the fel seal on the bindings, to no avail other than deepening the burns on his wrists.

"Anduin!" He yelled as the other guard swung her glaive and missed. The water was up to his knees by the time the captain was starting to cast at Anduin, and Khadgar felt...helpless. He realized this was how Anduin must have felt, trapped behind a shield as Khadgar fought a demon possessed Medivh. Luckily, though, he didn't have to spend long like that–because as soon as Anduin grabbed her wrist and shattered the bracelet with his sword, both barrier and water vanished.

He focused his energy and the bindings on him broke away, no longer strengthened by her spell, and then he forced the cell door open with a burst of arcane focus; but Khadgar didn't dare cast in such a small space, or try to cleanse her of the fel without preparation. 

So, he did the next best thing to solve the problem; he grabbed the heavy book he'd been reading from where it lie on the bench, and he hit her over the head with it as hard as he could. She dropped like a rock, unconscious.

#

"Really?" Anduin asked incredulously.  

Trust the mage to use a book.

He gave Khadgar a once-over. "We should find out what happened to Thelae and our guards," he said. "Are you all right?"

#

Khadgar looked at his wrists and winced; the mana burns had _just_ healed, now this? 

"I'm alright," he said, seeing as how the burns were just superficial. And very painful. "Let's go find them. It's gotten...too quiet. Tie her up first, though; I wouldn't expect her to have another talisman, but I wouldn't risk it."

Luckily, things upstairs were alright; the Night Elf guards were confused, a few injured, but none of them were still under fel control and the Stormwind soldiers were watching them closely. Khadgar made his way to Thelae's cabin, using his magic to open the locked door and finding her tied up inside.

"Are you alright?" he asked, loosening the bindings with a wave of his hand as he knelt in front of her.

#

Thelae looked at them both, seemingly bewildered. "Our own captain was taken by this fel?" She shook her head, looking distraught. "How is that possible?"

She got to her feet and gave them each deep bows. "Already Darnassus is in your debt. We would never have known a traitor was in our midst."

She frowned heavily. "She was...a friend.  I still don't understand how this could happen."

It was so close an echo to Anduin's own feelings about Medivh that he didn't have any reassurances to give her.

#

"Our Guardian knew what the fel was. He knew the cost. And still, he fell to it," Khadgar said. "It speaks nothing to her character. She may have started this with the best of intentions."

The demon's words came back to him–that's how it always starts. Use it to defend your people, your friends.

"We have her restrained downstairs. Once she awakens we may be able to talk to her and figure things out. I might be able to cleanse her of the fel, but...that depends on how far gone with it she is," he added. That was something he fought with every day; wondering if he could have saved Medivh, and yet knowing deep down that he didn't have that power. Medivh had been lost to them for years.

#

Thelae nodded, then straightened her shoulders. "Under the circumstances..." she cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable.  "Under the circumstances, I find it fitting to pardon you for your use of magic. I hate to think what could have happened without your interference. We can leave the question of any reprimand to the Priestess when we arrive at Darnassus. "

Anduin smiled at her, relieved some of the Elves saw sense. He clapped Khadgar on the shoulder. "His interference is usually not sought, but it's always been needed. The Guardian does not do things without good reason."

Thought her face was still distrustful, she nodded to them both.

Anduin leaned over to Khadgar. "I suppose we should go watch our friend in the brig," he said.

#

Khadgar nodded. "A few of your soldiers were injured, but your priestess was healing them and An–the regent's men were watching over them. They'll be fine, but...probably shaken," he said to Thelae before he took his lave and headed back downstairs. He was relieved to see that the captain hadn't awakened yet; he wasn't looking forward to questioning her, and he had a feeling they wouldn't get many answers, anyway.

"I guess this means I get to sleep in an actual bed for the rest of the journey," he said to Anduin with a smile, picking up his fallen book/bludgeon and setting it on the table. He winced at the movement, though, and tugged up his sleeves to see his wrists. "I'll be thrilled if I never see a set of manacles again, though."

#

Anduin set to collecting the abandoned pieces of his armor off the floor, along with the repair kit he dropped.  

He smiled back at Khadgar. "I doubt this was what you meant when you asked if boat rides were safe." He held up what he had in his hands. "Will you be all right here with her if I go put these back? I'd brought them down so I could keep you company."

#

"Well, now I get to wonder how safe it is to sail a ship without a captain," Khadgar pointed out with a laugh, and then he waved Anduin off. "Go ahead, I'll be fine."

After all, the captain was tied up and in the cell; even if she woke up, she wouldn't be doing much. As it was, Khadgar was even more exhausted than he thought; he grabbed the book and sat on a bench along one wall, intending to read until Anduin got back, but he soon found himself dozing off.

By the time Anduin returned, Khadgar was asleep with the book open in his lap, his head leaning back against the wall.

#

Anduin smiled down at the mage, and set the plate of food he'd brought for him to the side.

"Should have kept my armor handy after all," he said under his breath.

He sat down opposite Khadgar, where he could both watch him sleep and keep an eye on the woman in the cell.

Of course, that got boring, fast.

He poked Khadgar with his toe. "Hey. Bookworm. Can we just wake her up so we can get this over with?"

#

Khadgar jerked awake with a start, relaxing once he remembered where he was and who was with him. He rubbed the back of his neck with a wince; yeah, it hadn't been a good idea to fall asleep like that. He would be feeling that for a while.

"You're the regent, it's your call," he said teasingly–but really, he didn't want to do this. He knew they had to, but he didn't want to.

#

Anduin gave him a hint of a teasing smile that was part sympathy, part challenge. "Haven't you spent enough time down here, or have you gotten used to the comforts of dank air and rough seats?" He shook his head. "Wouldn't you rather a warm bed?" He let the smile turn into a grin. "Preferably mine?"

#

Khadgar felt his heels redden; he hated that he couldn't control that reaction to Anduin's frequent flirtations. He was fairly sure Anduin did it on purpose, though, just to see him blush.

"Maybe if we weren't about to have an interrogation–or if we weren't on a ship with thin walls and a dozen other people–that might seem like a better idea," he pointed out, smacking Anduin lightly on the shoulder. Down here in the brig was one thing, but the floors with the cabins were crowded, and the walls definitely not made to block sound.

#

"Do you make a lot of noise when you sleep?" Anduin asked, amused.

He let it go, though, despite the faint twinge of disappointment. Out of the two of them, he hadn't expected Khadgar to be the one to draw a boundary between sex and a relationship, but there it was.

And on second thought, he really should have, considering the mage had never had a normal family life and had run away from the only security he'd known.

Slightly angry with himself for making something more out of it than it was, he kept his frown at bay, and jerked his chin toward the cell.

#

Khadgar gave Anduin an odd look–he could tell the man was irked about something, but he no idea what. Anduin obviously didn't want to talk about it, though, so Khadgar sighed and extended one hand toward the unconscious Night Elf captain.

His hand glowed softly, and she jerked awake and blinked a few times before getting her bearings–and then promptly glared at the two of them. "Why did you not kill me?" she asked, and Khadgar frowned.

"I don't make a habit of killing people when I don't have to."

She scoffed. "And that, one day, will be your downfall, little mage."

#

Anduin sighed. He'd never had much patience for small talk, and especially not when interrogating prisoners. "Why'd you do it?" He asked. "How did you get the fel? Where did you get that bracelet?"

She spat at him.

He gestured impatiently between Khadgar and the captain. "Can you...fix her? Or is this just who she is as a person?" His tone was dry and exasperated.

#

Khadgar gave Anduin a look. "Are you talking about her personality, or the fel? Because one I might be able to fix. The other is a lost cause," he said, and the Night Elf laughed.

"You are foolish. Do want you want with me; the Burning Legion will still have your world," she said, and Khadgar's eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest.

The Burning Legion. 

It _couldn't_ be.

If the Burning Legion was behind all of this, rather than just one demon or small group of them seeking power...well, that changed things for the worst.

"The Burning Legion?" he repeated. "Who told you they were behind all of this?"

"I don't have to answer to you, _Guardian_."

#

Anduin's lips thinned. He didn't like being left out of the loop, but the group she'd named might as well have been in Taurahe. 

"What's the Burning Legion?" He asked Khadgar impatiently, already knowing he'd rather not have the answer. 

He gave the cell a kick. "And yes, you do have to answer to him."

#

"The Burning Legion...is the same group of demons that corrupted the Elven Well of Eternity hundreds of years ago. They caused the Sundering of Kalimdor. And it took the aid of demi–gods to expel them from this world," Khadgar explained, though nothing he said could possibly communicate the power that the Burning Legion wielded. "They exist only to cause suffering and death to others, and gain power for themselves."

"And you haven't escaped their notice, little mage," the captain said with a smirk. "How long do you think you'll be able to outrun them?"

Khadgar shook his head. "I don't plan to run."

"Then you'll simply add to their power with your corruption and death."

#

"Wonderful," Anduin groaned. It didn't encapsulate the trepidation he felt at hearing Khadgar's explanation, but what could you really say about something that sounded close to an apocalypse?

He would have to talk to Khadgar later about what they could do, but they were stuck on the ship at least another six days; that discussion could wait.

He glowered at the captain. "Can you get anything out of her, or is this a waste of our time? It's been a long day."

#

Khadgar shot Anduin a glare; what was he supposed to do? Why was it suddenly his job alone to try and get information out of a prisoner? He was a Guardian, not a torturer. Even if he cleansed her of the fel, that would only remove any latent ability to use it for now, not clear her of her desire to use it and protect the Burning Legion.

"I need some air," he said, getting up and walking out of the room. He needed to think, needed to clear his head, because now that he knew the Burning Legion was involved...

Well, that pit in his stomach just got a whole lot deeper. 

He got up on deck, which was empty of people by now, and leaned on his elbows against the railing, looking out at the ocean. He couldn't even fend off one demon without tapping every reserve he had; if the Burning Legion developed the ability to attack with any force, he would be powerless to protect Azeroth or its people.

Powerless to protect Anduin.

He looked down at his burned wrists, remembering that brief moment of helplessness just that evening, when he hadn't been able to help Anduin–and that was just against one corrupted Night Elf that he underestimated.

What chance did he have, truly?

#

Baffled, Anduin watched Khadgar's back as he just up and left. What was he supposed to do with the prisoner? He couldn't cleanse her of the fel, and the information she had to give them was apparently over his head.

The captain laughed at him. "Your cause is weak, and so are your people," she said. "And that is why you'll fall to the Legion."

Anduin didn't bother to dignify that with a response. Instead he went to find his soldiers, sending two of them down to stand guard with instructions to switch every four hours with the other two. 

Annoyed with himself, but not quite knowing why, he went to the mess and grabbed some food before heading back to his cabin. Repairing his armor usually allowed him to stay in the moment and not overthink.

#

Khadgar stayed for a short while before he felt level headed again–not any more optimistic, but at least not like he couldn't take another second of staring down the fel. He returned to the brig and ordered the two soldiers to wait outside, and they hesitated, but followed instructions.

He had to give this one last try.

"Why you?" he asked, and she narrowed her eyes at him. "And are there any others among your people who have turned to the fel?"

She grinned broadly. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"I can cleanse the fel from you, you know. You still have a chance at redemption."

"You keep your spells to yourself, mage," she snapped, starting to look panicked. Khadgar decided to press.

"If you give up the fel, your High Priestess will surely show leniency. You can help them, with what you've learned," he said, and a flicker of indecision flitted across her features–but it was quickly gone.

"You'll burn in the fel, Guardian, like your predecessor did," she growled, and Khadgar sighed and lifted his hand, speaking a soft incantation.

It wasn't much of a struggle to cleanse the fel from her; most of the energy had been bound up in her talisman, and she hadn't been corrupted for long. She cursed at him in Darnassian, and when the spell ended, she slumped in her bonds and glared at him, breathing hard. "I hope to be the one to put a blade through your throat, boy."

Khadgar lowered his hand, the glow fading. "You can try, but others haven't had much luck," he pointed out, turning and leaving the room. He ordered the guards to continue exactly as how Anduin had told them to, and then he went up to his cabin–but paused at the door. He stood in indecision for a few moments before walking slowly down to Anduin's cabin and knocking lightly on the door, wondering if he was still awake. "Anduin...?"

#

The knock on his door startled him; Anduin dreaded that it was Thelae, telling him that something _else_  had gone wrong, but no–it was Khadgar's voice. 

Who had probably come to tell him that something _else_  had gone wrong. 

He didn't sound urgent though, only hesitant. That wasn't any better of a sign; it usually meant Khadgar had been thinking too much. Anduin set his breastplate aside and opened the door with a raised eyebrow. "More Naga? The entire crew is full of fel? Is this 'Burning Legion' on the horizon?" He shook his head. "Did you turn the entire crew into sheep? Hopefully you left the first mate alone, we need her to sail us to Darnassus."

#

Khadgar didn't wait for the endless stream of questions to stop; instead, he stepped forward and hugged Anduin tightly, burying his face against the regent's shoulder.

"I tried to convince her to give up the fel willingly, but she wouldn't," he muttered against Anduin's shoulder. "But I cleansed her of it. She won't be any more trouble."

...though maybe if he turned the entire crew to sheep, they could have some peace and quiet for the rest of the trip.

#

Anduin was taken off-guard by the embrace, but returned it, albeit with a bemused expression on his face. One that Khadgar couldn't see, of course, considering he was pressing himself into Anduin. He hadn't expected to see the mage until morning, given his earlier protests about sharing a room and his seeming irritation with him in the brig.

"One less problem to worry about," he muttered, then stepped back to look at Khadgar. He couldn't get anything from his expression other than a small amount of worry. He took Khadgar's hands in his, pushing back the sleeves gently. "Are these like the mana burns?" He asked. "Or can the Night Elf healer help you?"

#

Khadgar was reluctant to let go, but he allowed Anduin to step back and take hold of his hands. "I'm not sure. Probably?" he guessed with a half-hearted, tired shrug. "I didn't really want to bother her with it. After the battle with the Naga and all of this now, she's probably exhausted."

That, and he was tired enough to collapse for a full day himself. And he kind of didn't want to be alone right now, but he wasn't about to say that out loud.

  
#

Anduin didn't bother to hide his put-upon sigh. "They owe you after what you've done for them," he pointed out. "Wait here."

He pointed Khadgar toward his bed. 

Instead of going to find the healer, however, he went to the stores; Khadgar was right, the priestess had probably been pushed past her limits, and it wasn't the rest of the crew he had an issue with, not really. It took him longer than he would have liked, but finally he came across some goldthorn and, miraculously, wintersbite. He wasn't a healer, but warriors were trained to survive, and that included how to make bandages and poultices. 

He brought the supplies down with him to his cabin rather than waiting; he knew Khadgar enough to know he'd either have gotten bored or impatient by then, and he didn't feel like having to track him down in the ship.

He pushed open the door and set the herbs and bowl down on the desk, and set to mashing. "There's cloth in my satchel, you'll see the wrappings," he told Khadgar. 

#

Khadgar was too tired to go causing trouble at the moment; he didn't really want Anduin to go and get a healer for him, but he sat down on the edge of the bed anyway, waiting (mostly) patiently for Anduin to return. He hadn't expected him to return with herbs and a mortar and pestle, though.

"I didn't know you were trained in herbal remedy," he pointed out even as he got up and went to Anduin's satchel, quickly finding the bandages inside. He set them down on the desk by Anduin, watching over his shoulder with curiosity as the warrior worked.

#

Anduin snorted. "These are just herbs. It's not alchemy." He finished smashing everything around and wiped it on the inside of the bandages in a neat area. "We fight on such varied ground we might not have access to a healer. It's basic training. Here," he took Khadgar's hand and wrapped the cloth around his wrist, tight enough not to make a mess but not enough to hurt. 

He performed the same treatment on Khadgar's other wrist, then wiped his hands on his pants. "I do have skills other than swinging around a sword."

#

Khadgar let out a breath of relief at the cool feeling of the medicine on the burned skin. "Thank you," he said, giving Anduin a tired smile.

"And I know you do," he added, nudging Anduin with his elbow, and then he grinned. "But I'm betting you've never taken down an enemy using a book."

#

Anduin grinned. "I should have known that would be your weapon of choice." 

He sat back down on his bed and picked up the breastplate he'd abandoned, setting to work again on the minor strap repairs with a thick needle. He nodded toward the plate of untouched bread and cheese he'd brought down earlier and forgot about. "If you're hungry," he said.

He still didn't know why Khadgar had come to find him. He was always happy to have him near, but he'd gotten the impression the mage had been seeking some time for himself, with the way he'd run out of the barracks.

#

"I never have much of an appetite after dealing with the fel," Khadgar said with a chuckle, hesitating before moving to sit next to Anduin on the bed. He was silent for a few long moments before he spoke again.

"'She implied that...there may be more Darnassians who have turned to the fel," he said, staring down at the floor. "I've been thinking that perhaps we should start keeping closer watch on our own, back at Stormwind. Just in case."

If the fel infiltrated the castle, well...that was a blow they couldn't afford to take.

#

Anduin frowned at him.

There was a deeply unsettling thought. It made him want to turn the ship straight around and make sure Taria and her children were safe.

"We shouldn't stay long in Teldrassil," was as far as he could go to admitting those fears. Any more and he really would go above deck to find the first mate. The thought of losing his remaining family in his absence turned his blood to ice. 

He hoped this all hadn't been a ploy to get them away from the royal family, but Thelae had seemed too sincere in her dealings with them.

He stabbed his finger with his needle, and let out a sharp curse.

#

Khadgar nodded in agreement. He knew the castle guards would give their lives to protect Taria and the children, but against the fel, they would have their hands full.

Speaking of guards...Dion was not going to be happy that Khadgar got hurt on this trip. It was amazing how protective that guard had gotten of him.

He raised an eyebrow as Anduin let out a curse. "Am I distracting you?" he asked with an amused tone.

#

Anduin cut the thread and put the armor kit away, setting aside the metal plate. He leaned back on his elbows and raised his eyebrow. "Only with things I don't want to think about."

He stuck his finger in his mouth, sucking away the blood. Not that it helped the sting, but it was habit.

He sighed. "I didn't like the idea of leaving Taria to begin with, but if there's even the hint of a chance this threat is real on the inside of our city..." he shook his head. "I'm not bringing that fel-taken woman into Stormwind though. We need to see this through. Let the Night Elves deal with their own, and let them see what you've done for them already. It will build a stronger alliance."

#

"Hopefully we can find a way for their priestesses to better deal with the fel," Khadgar said. "The High Priestess wouldn't have invited me if she didn't think I could contribute. She may be more...open-minded than her people."

He dropped back on the bed with a sigh, legs still hanging off the edge, and his hands pillowed behind his head. "Do you think we'll ever get a break from this? A week with no fel, no demons, no Orcs?" he asked, and then he laughed. "Light, I'd settle for one day without crisis."

#

"We have six days left on the open water," Anduin said dryly. "I would say that would give us a chance, but knowing you, spell–chucker..."

He nudged a shoulder into Khadgar's and settled back further against the wall, entwining his fingers across his stomach.

Now that he wasn't fighting nausea, the rock of the ship on the water was soothing. "Thanks for that spell about the seasickness. I'm not going sailing again without you."

#

"Not sure you'll want me on every trip you take. If this is my inaugural ship ride, it seems I'm bad luck," Khadgar pointed out. That, and as nice as the view was, he still didn't like being in the middle of an ocean, no land in sight. He imagined that was intimidating even for someone who _could_ swim.

"That spell will cancel itself out the moment you step on land, so remind me to recast it for the trip home," he added, closing his eyes for a few moments, just to rest them. Really.

#

"Believe me, I won't forget." 

Anduin gave him a sideways glance. "What happened to being worried that your snores would up the ship if you stayed with me?" He teased.

He kicked off his own boots, but didn't move to take off anything else, not wanting to disturb Khadgar. The mage had been a saint with what he'd dealt with so far on the voyage.

#

"Oh, don't be obtuse," Khadgar muttered, but he was obviously one step over the line into falling asleep. He decided he would just doze here–only rest for a while–

And of course, that turned into him falling asleep with his head pillowed on Anduin's shoulder, body exhausted and mind out like a light.

#

Anduin shook his head, not without fondness, and pressed a kiss into hair that tasted faintly like a Naga's backside. Grimacing, he waited until Khadgar actually was snoring, quietly, and slipped out of bed to maneuver Khadgar under the covers. The mage might think the clean clothes he'd changed into were acceptable to sleep in, but he still wore his sea-drenched, blood-covered clothes.

He stripped, put on clean underclothes, and climbed back into bed with Khadgar, pulling him tight to his chest.

His arm was asleep within the hour, but somehow looking at the mage's peaceful face, it didn't matter.

#

Khadgar woke to the sound of the bell ringing for breakfast, but he just groaned and blinked a few times, not really wanting to move. Or do anything. He was comfortable right here.

Probably because Anduin had pressed up against his back sometime during the night, the warrior's arm draped heavily over his waist. The bell rang again, and Khadgar moaned, burying his face in the pillow and pressing back closer to the warm body behind him.

"I'm going to pyroblast that bell," he threatened, though he knew they only rang it twice in the mornings.

#

"Shh." Anduin said into Khadgar's neck. He didn't care about breakfast; he felt like he hadn't had a decent sleep in a month, and that was because that was true. 

He was vaguely aware that parts of himself were insistently pressing into the mage's comfortable backside, but that wasn't unusual in the mornings so he ignored it, and hoped Khadgar would, too. He planned to sleep through until the next morning, if he could help it.

#

Khadgar knew that if the breakfast bell was sounding, they'd probably slept a good ten hours, and they should probably get up–but he really didn't want to. And it sounded like Anduin didn't want to, either.

Of course, he realized as he pressed backwards against the warrior that it felt like _some_ parts of him were more awake than others. 

Curiously–and okay, maybe a little mischievously–Khadgar rocked backward against Anduin a little more insistently, just to see what would happen.

#

"Some of us aren't as young as you, bookworm," Anduin grumbled.

Though his words couldn't exactly disguise the way his hips responded to Khadgar's shifting weight. Was he doing that on purpose? He was a little incredulous at the thought, given how worried Khadgar had seemed about their involvement becoming public knowledge.

Anduin pressed himself down further into the blankets.

#

Khadgar chuckled, his voice still thick from sleep. "You saying you need more than ten hours’ sleep a night?" he pointed out, though he didn't make any move toward getting up.

He knew this was probably a bad idea. It wasn't that he didn't want people to know about himself and Anduin–it was more specifically about being overheard like this, because he wasn't sure how quiet he could be. So he really shouldn't have been instigating this.

And yet, here he was, squirming back against the hard length pressing against him; because if one thing was consistent about Khadgar, it was his inability to stay out of trouble.

#

Anduin groaned, and it was a sound of lust, not annoyance. "You are doing that on purpose," he accused.

It was effective at waking him up, at least, damn the wriggly younger man. He kissed Khadgar's neck, because it was there, then turned it into a harder bite. Not hard enough to really hurt, of course–just to mark for being such an instigator.

He ran his hand not trapped beneath them down Khadgar's chest to the crease between stomach and groin, still not sure whether he wanted to encourage this or hold his hips still so he could close his eyes again.

#

"What would make you think a thing like that?" Khadgar asked, a smile in his words. He bit down on his lip and swallowed down a moan at the attention to his neck–he could be quiet. He could. 

But now he was having a bit too much fun. He reached down with one hand and threaded his fingers through Anduin's. "If you're really complaining, I can stop," he said, even as he grinded his ass back against Anduin's clothed erection.

Needless to say, he didn't think Anduin was actually complaining. 

#

Anduin brought their hands, tangled together, the rest over Khadgar's length and began rubbing him with long strokes.

"No? Because you could get into trouble for something like that," he murmured, continuing to press kisses into Khadgar's skin. He took his earlobe between his teeth and nibbled gently.

He pushed into the warm groove just below Khadgar's ass, between his clothed legs, and let out an involuntary, needy noise.

#

Khadgar wasn't sure whether to push forward into Anduin's hand, or keep teasing him by rocking backward. He settled for both, pressing back against Anduin when his hips moved forward.

"What kind of trouble?" he asked, and this time his voice was pitched low with something other than sleep. His hand tightened on Anduin's, and he tilted his head, giving Anduin more room to work with.

He couldn't hold back the soft whimper that escaped him at the noise Anduin made, though. It was definitely spurring him on, knowing he was the cause of it. 

#  


"That's it," Anduin said gruffly, but he laughed through it. He moved back just far enough that he could push Khadgar into the mattress on his back, climbing over him to pin him down. Their cocks rubbed together as he thrust, bending down to claim Khadgar's mouth with a teasing, warning look in his eye.

He pulled off his shirt, then started on Khadgar's.  "Are you going to help me, you lazy mage?" He teased.

#

Khadgar smirked as Anduin pushed him down onto his back, but the smirk quickly vanished as Anduin thrust down against him; he dropped his head back against the pillow with a bitten-off groan, his legs parting instinctively.

"Lazy? You were the one who wanted to keep sleeping," he pointed out, though even as he was saying it, he was helping Anduin get his shirt off of him. He pulled Anduin down into a firm kiss, nipping at the warrior's lower lip. 

#

Anduin dragged his lips over Khadgar's collarbone, then down to the trail of hair that led into his pants. He grabbed the waistband and pushed them down over Khadgar's hips, freeing his length. He took just the tip of it in his mouth, running his tongue over the head, before sitting up, contemplating.

He hadn't missed the way the mage's legs had parted in clear invitation, and by the Gods he wanted whatever Khadgar was offering.

The problem was, he didn't exactly know what to do about it. Not with a man.

He covered his confusion by pulling the rest of his clothes off and bending back over Khadgar, taking both of their lengths together in his capable warrior's grip. He braced himself on his other arm and began to pump, thrusting through his fingers and sliding against the other man's cock.

#

Khadgar managed to not thrust up into Anduin's mouth this time, but in just a moment he'd pulled away, and Khadgar actually _whined_ –because why, _why would you stop there_ –

He didn't have time to ask, though, before Anduin was pulling off the rest of his clothes and pressing back down against him. He arched up into him as Anduin thrust against him, barely managing to kick his pants the rest of the way down and off his legs. He could only hope that the sound of the bed creaking couldn't be heard outside the room, because he was definitely not calling this off now.

"Anduin," he moaned, one hand clinging to Anduin's shoulder, the other tangling in the blankets beneath them.

#

"You should be quieter," Anduin whispered between gasps, "Since you were so worried about anyone knowing."

The tip of his erection hit the base of Khadgar's cock with every push. It would be enough, but he wanted more. 

"Maybe," he groaned, feeling his face heat with the admission of ignorance,  "You should use those books of yours to figure out what else we can do."

#

"It's not t-that I don't want anyone knowing, I just–" Khadgar started, interrupting himself with a gasp at a particularly firm thrust against him. "J-Just have no desire to have people overhearing _this_ –"

Light, it was hard to speak in complete sentences with Anduin rutting against him like this.

He did laugh breathlessly as Anduin's next words, though obviously not unkindly. "What k-kind of books do you think I read?" he asked, and then his hand flew to his mouth and he bit down hard on his knuckle to stifle a groan that they _definitely_ would have heard upstairs.

#

"Obviously the wrong ones," Anduin growled. He captured Khadgar's lips with his own, doing his best to swallow the noises the mage was making. He tangled their tongues together. 

His cock was straining for release, his stomach tight with desire. 

"Light, Khadgar," he moaned, all pretenses falling away. 

He lost the rhythm to the sensation of Khadgar writhing beneath him, and just gave in to thrusting wildly into his fist.

#

Khadgar was definitely past the point of being able to reply coherently. He dropped his head back against the pillow as they broke the kiss, hips rocking up against Anduin, his breath coming in gasps now as he felt the pressure building.

He didn't manage to stifle a moan of Anduin's name, his short nails dragging down Anduin's back as he shuddered with release. He only hesitated a moment before sliding one hand down and wrapping it around Anduin's cock with the warrior's own, his eyes still dark with lust as he looked up to meet his gaze.

#

Anduin bucked into Khadgar's welcome grip, the extra pressure, the thought of Khadgar doing this to him, and that look in his eyes pushing him over the edge into bliss. He came, shuddering with release, and collapsed onto Khadgar without meaning to. 

Knowing he was squishing the younger man, he let himself lay there, smiling into Khadgar's shoulder and baiting him into pushing him off. He enjoyed the feel of sweaty skin against his own while it lasted, feeling their bellies rise and fall together as their breathing slowed back down. 

#

Khadgar let out an 'oof' as Anduin dropped down on top of him when he was already trying to catch his breath. "Light, you're heavy," he complained with a laugh, shoving at Anduin until he rolled off of him. He wasn't about to give up the closeness, though; he moved in close to Anduin, just as eager for the contact as Anduin had been, and kissed him lightly.

"I'd say that wasn't a bad wake up call," he pointed out, though only part of the blush on his face was from exertion–the other part was from knowing that they almost certainly hadn't been quiet enough to escape notice.

#  


Anduin drew him in close, tucking him under his arm and kissing him back.

"I'm not complaining," Anduin said softly. 

He began stroking Khadgar's arm lazily. He could get used to having the mage with him like this; in fact he already had. After so many years alone, it was an incredible feeling. He was trying to ignore the warning bells screaming to him of future loss and tried to just enjoy the moment.

"So what made you change your mind?" He murmured. 

#

"Maybe the fact that I can't seem to stay away from you," Khadgar muttered into Anduin's shoulder, but he was smiling as he said it. It was true; he couldn't say no to Anduin, and the idea of being without him seemed like some kind of torture.

He'd never felt like this for anyone in his whole life. It was almost...scary.

There was a knock on the door, and Khadgar sighed, but didn't move as a voice using unaccented Common called out through the door. "Regent, is everything alright...?"

#  


Anduin scowled, running through possible replies in his head. He settled on avoiding the question entirely. "Has something happened?"

"...no?" The voice called back. "We heard..."

"There are no Naga in here, or unfortunate Darnassians. Everything's fine." Anduin sighed, then smiled down at Khadgar mischievously. "Just working out frustrations."

"...okay," the voice said,  sounding anything but. Footsteps moved away from the door.

Anduin closed his eyes and wondered how long he could keep Khadgar still in his arms.

#

Khadgar stifled his laugh until the soldier walked away from the door, and then he lifted his head to give Anduin a grin. "Working out frustrations? Is that what we're calling it?" he teased, one hand moving to lay on Anduin's chest, where he could easily feel the heartbeat below skin and muscle.

He felt kind of bad for the poor soldiers along on the trip. "I think we owe our escort some bonus pay, by the way," he said, only half kidding as he laid his head back down and got comfortable. "We've put them through more than they bargained for on this trip."

He paused, and then he laughed. "I think Dion will insist on being part of the escort for future trips, at this rate."

#

"You are frustrating," Anduin said mildly. "And you're probably right. Either that or a bribe not to tell Taria of everything that has happened."

It wasn't that he was insecure, but Anduin scowled at the mention of Khadgar's pet palace guard. "I suppose you'll tell Mustard everything, and get his permission too while you're at it?"

#

Khadgar gave Anduin an odd look. "No, I don't plan to tell him everything, but you know how word flies among the guards," he pointed out. After all, word of the sheep incident spread like wildfire. "And I don't get his permission to do things. I don't even get yours, why would I get his?" he added with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 

He paused, shifting to prop his head on his hand. "Why do you sound angry about it? You're the one who assigned him to me. Isn't he doing exactly what he's supposed to be? Trying to look out for me and failing when I don't behave?"

#

"Maybe it's just that you seem to be worried about what he thinks while you're in bed with me." Anduin glanced at him. "You seem to be worried about what everyone thinks, for that matter. The palace guards, the people on this ship, the Darnassians, any future allies of Stormwind."

He looked away from Khadgar. "I'm not used to worrying this much about what other people think of me. Am I really being that irresponsible, choosing to be with you? Is that what you think?" 

#  


The odd look Khadgar was giving Anduin quickly turned into a frown, and he sat up and pushed his already messy hair back from his forehead. 

"Where's _this_ coming from?" he asked, looking more hurt than angry. "I _never_ said you were being irresponsible choosing to be with me. Forgive me if I gave you a chance to say if it was going to be too much on top of, you know, suddenly becoming regent."

He wondered how long Anduin had been holding this in–judging from the look on his face, probably a while. Khadgar hadn't _meant_ to hurt him by offering him a chance to call things off before they got too serious–it wasn't like he was saying he didn't love him, because Light knows, he does–he just didn't want either of them leaping into this without looking.

#

Anduin turned back to him, unblinking as he considered Khadgar's pained expression.

"Too much," he said. "You think it would be easier for me on my own? To take the place of my own dead friend, my king, without someone by my side? To do this alone?"

Anduin's fingers clenched in the blankets. What he was hearing, he realized, were perhaps Khadgar's own feelings on the matter. He wasn't the only one with enormous responsibility suddenly thrust on him.

He sat up, facing away from Khadgar, and began searching on the floor for his clothes.

"I'd need you here with me regardless," he said. "I know nothing about this threat we're facing and I'm relying on your guidance." He cleared his throat. "If there's some hint I'm not getting here, just tell me."

#

"That's not what I meant! Would you stop exaggerating everything I've said?" Khadgar said, and now the anger was starting to catch up to the hurt. 

He wasn't sure why, all of a sudden, Anduin was trying to see the worst in every word from him.

But the cool tone that Anduin adopted after that left the anger quickly chilling into something more...numb. " _Regardless_ ," he repeated in a tone almost of disbelief.

He wasn't sure where this had all gone so wrong. He didn't know what he'd done to turn Anduin around like this.

But regardless, he couldn't handle it right now. He stood up and pulled on his own clothes and grabbed his cloak, sending a glare Anduin's way. "I don't know why I'd fill you in on any mysterious hints you're not getting when you're doing just fine filling in the blanks yourself with whatever sounds worst," he snapped, going to the door. "But regardless, I said I'd always be there for you, by your side, and that hasn't changed. So if you have need of your Guardian, you know where he'll be."

He left before he could say anything more that Anduin might take poorly, going back to his own cabin, and storming past a very confused guard.

At least his books weren't liable to mood swings to rival the Dragon Aspects. 

#

Anduin bent over his bare knees as Khadgar left the room, staring at the floor in bewildered frustration. He'd been so content a moment before. Why did the mage always have to make things difficult? Why couldn't he just stop thinking, stop talking, let them just exist together without bringing everything else into it–their positions, other people, diplomatic relations? 

He straightened and reconsidered pulling on the clothes he'd discarded the night before, as dirty as they were. He pulled his second set from his satchel and changed slowly, feeling like his limbs were weighted down. 

Did Khadgar think this _wasn't behaving_ , as he'd said? Did the mage think they were doing something taboo? And if that were the case, was there simply something about being a guardian, or perhaps part of the Kirin Tor, that he just wasn't getting?

Medivh had certainly never said being a Guardian excluded relationships. But perhaps Medivh wasn't the best example to go on. 

He wished desperately for a moment that Llane were still alive. He was a beacon of sanity in his life. He knew what to say to get Anduin to calm down, and he knew him well enough to tell him when he was being unreasonable. 

And, selfishly, if he were alive, it would be him on this boat going to deal with a suspicious and reclusive people, not him.

Anduin couldn't tell if it was his own conscience bothering him, or Khadgar's, or just the sense that maybe everything Khadgar had been hinting at was right. Perhaps he did have a greater duty to the world than he already thought. Perhaps he had been right from the beginning–that a relationship with the guardian would only compromise a needed partnership between that guardian and Stormwind itself. 

He shook his head. The way Khadgar said his name in bed, though...it couldn't be that Khadgar didn't want him. Light, when he'd thought he was about to be taken by the fel, the words on his lips were that he loved him. That wasn't a fantasy. 

Was it just that at the heart of it, Khadgar was more responsible than he was? Stronger? He was arguing with him, but surely he had the same conflict Anduin himself did–between what he wanted, and what he thought he should do. 

Anduin closed his eyes, composing himself, before making the bad decision that he was thinking entirely too much, and there was still entirely too much of a boat ride left in front of them. He grabbed a book on Darnassian history from his bag and went to the mess deck. 

He found Thelae there. He avoided her eyes and went to the cupboards, but had a hard time finding what he was after.

"What is it you'd like?" She asked 

Anduin smiled ruefully. "Spirits." Then he remembered he'd seen her drinking, before, after Khadgar had first used his magic. 

She went to the one cupboard he hadn't checked and pulled out two bottles of a red liquid. Wordlessly, she handed both to him and left. 

What she didn't see, she couldn't be held responsible for, he figured. 

He put his bare feet up on the table, and opened the book he'd brought. He'd have to be drunk to get through it anyway.

#

The next three days were like some kind of silent torture for Khadgar–and it was funny, because normally being left alone with his books would be exactly what he hoped for. But he found to hard to concentrate on anything but the way he and Anduin were avoiding each other. 

And what was worse was that the crew and the Stormwind soldiers were both starting to notice the tension. They were starting to treat both regent and Guardian like they were time bombs, soon to go off. So Khadgar retreated further into his books–until two days before journey's end, when one of the eleven guards appeared at his door and said the prisoner–former captain–wanted to speak to him.

When he got downstairs, she was still restrained–but her eyes were bright with the fel, and her voice was not her own. 

He started to cast a shield, but a low growl of a voice came from the delicate elves lips. "Wait, Guardian. I wish to...speak with you."

Khadgar recognized that voice. He'd heard it twice before.

It was the same demon, now reaching through the nether to possess this Night Elf.

"I have no interest in talking with you," Khadgar said, and the demon laughed.

"Even if it could save your friends?"

"There's always a price with you, and it's always too high."

"Only your own soul this time. Do you value that over your friends' lives?"

Khadgar froze, staring the demon down. "What good would one soul do you? And you would not keep your word. Do you think I'm stupid?"

The demo grinned toothily. "Oh, no, you're very smart. Smart enough to know that certain fel pacts cannot be broken. I cannot guarantee your world spared, but I can guarantee...a few lives. You're going to lose anyway, in the end. Why not save those you can?"

And for a moment, Khadgar was tempted.

Tempted to save Anduin, Taria, and the children, tempted to salvage who he could when the Burning Legion broke into their world. 

But the guilt hit him so hard, that he would even consider working with a demon, that he physically recoiled. 

" _No_."

The demon sneered. "Fine," it snapped, and it started to cast. 

Khadgar was quicker though, and he threw as strong a shield as he could manage around the cell, leaving the demon to glare at him from behind blue arcane magic.

"You can't keep this shield up for two days, Guardian."

" _Watch me_."

#

The days passed in something of a drunken haze for Anduin, and ironically, he had Khadgar to thank for that–if he'd still been seasick, alcohol would have been entirely out of the question. 

On the other hand, the mage was why he was drinking to begin with. 

Three days after the row they'd had, if you could really call a petty snit an argument, one of the Stormwind guards came to find him in his cabin. She frantically told Anduin that she saw a blue glow coming from the brig, and she was afraid the Night Elves would notice that the guardian was performing magic again. 

It filled Anduin with a sort of protective anger–first at Khadgar, because what was he doing in the brig with the traitorous captain by himself to begin with? And secondly at Khadgar for an entirely different reason, namely that they'd just sorted out relations with the crew, so what was he doing jeopardizing that again? 

He made an unsteady journey to the lower levels of the ship, pausing outside the door to the brig. 

"You can't keep this shield up for two days, Guardian." _That was an unnatural voice, for a female Night Elf._

"Watch me," Khadgar's voice said clearly, threateningly. 

Anduin frowned, and shoved open the door. "What do you think you're doing, spell–chucker?" He looked in confusion at the blue shield, and back to Khadgar. "She's already behind bars."

#

Khadgar bristled at the sound of that nickname from Anduin–yes, he was still mad, and Anduin sounded irritated. Well, he wasn't the only one.

And Khadgar was even more irritated that Anduin assumed he would just fling magic around needlessly when tensions were this high. He wasn't stupid; but if he didn't contain this demon and its powers, the only place this ship would end up would be the bottom of the sea. 

"It's not her anymore, Lothar," he said, eyes and hand still glowing, though he was trying to put in the minimum effort to keep a shield that would still hold–he couldn't afford to waste any energy at all. "Look at her eyes. She's possessed through the nether."

"And here all you had to do was agree," the demon said with a grin. "One soul and I would have been gone, _spell-chucker_. Of course, you would have been too, but that seems a small price to pay."

#

Anduin pointed a finger at the captain. "You," he said, a little drunkenly, "Are not allowed to call him that."

The demon's words put a chill into his heart. "I don't want to know," he said. "I don't want to know what it said to you, and I don't want you to listen to it, got that?" He fingered his sword. 

Drunk, but not that drunk. Murdering the captain would erase all hope of an alliance. 

Unless...

"Send a guard if you need me," Anduin said. "I'll be right back."

He needed to get Thelae.

He found her in her cabin, reading. It seemed she'd decided she'd had enough of their ill-fated ship and crew as well. 

She raised an eyebrow at him when he entered, but he waved his hands at her. "We have a problem. With the captain. I don't know if you need to gather the crew for this, but Khadgar thinks she's possessed. His efforts to cleanse her of the fel didn't work."

"Gather my crew for what?" She narrowed her eyes. 

"Your judgment," he said. What he'd wanted to say was ' _an execution.'_ But he didn't have the power or authority for that. Not on this ship, and not when they got to Darnassus, He shuddered to think what would happen if they arrived in Rut'theran Village and had to transport the captain from the ship to land. 

Clearly unhappy, she said, "Let me get the first mate."

They joined him before long, and they made their way back down to the cell. The two Elves stared, horrified, between Khadgar and the blue light enveloping the captain.

The first mate shot off something that sounded angry and terrified in Darnassian. She made a move like she was going to attack Khadgar, but Thelae stopped her with a hand on her chest. "She wants to know what you're doing," Thelae said, obviously interpreting in short hand. "And I would too. We forgave your first trespass. But this–" She gestured.

Anduin stood as close to the cage as he could get, his hand on the pommel of his sword. If the demon made a move, politics be damned.

#

"You let me take you, and everyone on this ship is safe, Guardian," the demon said as soon as Anduin was gone.

"Shut up."

"Anduin must hate that you're destroying his alliances before they even form. I doubt you'll be coming along again, after this mess."

"I said shut up!"

Khadgar only glanced at the Night Elves as they came in, even as one made to stop him. If they wanted to stop him, they could feel free, and then _they_ could live with the consequences. Though likely not for long.

"If I take down this shield, this ship will not get to Darnassus," he explained, staring down the demon, who looked amused. "So it's either I shield this demon, or I shield the holes he puts in your ship after he's done. Assuming I can."

"He's right, but he's leaving out the best part. I offered him a perfectly good trade–his life for all the lives on this ship. But he evidently values himself above all of you," the demon said with a smirk. 

#

Thelae translated what was said to the first mate. Both females looked horrified. 

Anduin shook his head at the demon. Were all of them this stupid, or just this particular one? He made a mental note to ask Khadgar later.

Assuming they'd ever talk again, which wasn't seeming likely at that point. 

...why would the demon think that they would put innocents, even the ten or so on board, above the life of the Guardian of Azeroth? It made Anduin sick to think about it in those terms, but it didn't make it any less true. Anduin's own life even as regent was worth less than Khadgar's. That was simply understood.

Or so he'd thought. Maybe what the demon doing was not telling the truth, per se, though. Maybe what it was doing was echoing Khadgar's own fears back at him.

Anduin narrowed his eyes at the mage. "Is that what you think of yourself?" He asked softly.

The first mate snapped something off in Darnassian. 

"Can she be cured, and not just contained?" Thelae translated.

#

Khadgar deliberately didn't meet Anduin's eyes. He knew exactly what would show on his face; that given a choice to save Anduin and his sister and their family at his own expense, he would take that deal.

The only thing holding him back was that he would be giving up on the rest of Azeroth if he did it, and he was the Guardian. The protector. That was his entire purpose now, to defend Azeroth to his dying breath.

It was something he understood the moment the title shifted to him–that his own life might become forfeit, if it meant the people he was meant to protect would be safe. 

The last Guardian had failed so spectacularly, that Khadgar couldn't even think of making the same mistake. 

"I've fought this demon off before and won, but that kind of battle would be too dangerous to attempt in the middle of the ocean on a wooden ship. Even if I won that battle, the damage might sink us," he explained. The demon grinned wider, pressing his fel energy against the barrier and making Khadgar brace himself to keep his own shield unmoved.

"Not going to answer your lover, then? How telling."

"I told you to _shut up_ , demon."

#

Thelae raised an eyebrow, but otherwise showed no surprise at the demon's words. 

Anduin looked to her, not to Khadgar, when he spoke. "Do I have permission to kill it, if it's possible? I know you look at that thing and see one of your people, but it's not her."

Thelae translated to the first mate, who looked as though she'd rather kill him. She took a step forward however, giving Khadgar a wide berth, and spoke in Darnassian to the captain. 

The demon didn't answer her. She looked as though she had been slapped. She peered carefully through the bars. Anduin followed her gaze to where the former captain's eyes glowed green, and not the blue-white of the Elves. 

Anduin turned to Khadgar at last. "Can I run it through, if you take this barrier down? What will happen to the demon? I remember what..." he broke off, his gaze passing over the Elves and remembering that some things at least should not be shared. "Would it leave then, or would it find a new body here on this ship?" 

He had no idea how demonic possession worked, and he honestly wasn't sure Khadgar did either. If Medivh's knowledge had truly transferred to him, though, maybe there was a chance.

#

Khadgar clenched his jaw. He wanted to save her, not kill her–all of a sudden he was back in that tower, staring down Medivh, knowing that he could do nothing but kill him to free him–

He didn't feel like a 'protector' at all right now.

"He couldn't unless someone else on board was already messing with fel magic. They can't take just anyone; you have to open the door first, so to speak," he explained. "If I take this barrier down, I can only suppress the fel enough for her to be killed for a _very_ short time. Honestly, I'd rather attempt up keep this barrier up till Darnassus. I think she might still be able to be saved, if we can just...get _through_ to her. Maybe her High Priestess could help bring her back."

It was folly and he knew it. But he didn't want another death to the fel on his conscience. He didn't want to have to kill her. He wanted someone to break free of it, to show it could be done.

This woman was unlikely to be the one to prove that, but dammit, he wanted to try. He was so tired of death.

#

Anduin was reminded of the naive young spellcaster he'd found in his barracks, looking at the plea on Khadgar's face. He was no warrior, he wasn't used to death and killing and the hard choices of war.

Thelae said something to the first mate in Darnassian.  She left the room. 

"It speaks to your character that you are trying to protect her," Thelae said. "I am sorry for my initial distrust."

Anduin watched Khadgar, worried. He was going to have to learn to make these types of choices, or he would always be putting someone–himself, most likely–at risk.

The first mate returned with a warrior from their crew. They spoke with Thelae.

"Our own will do this, Guardian. We cannot risk a foreigner taking the blame for this choice."

All three Elves looked sick, but determined.

#

Khadgar looked sick with it, too. He wanted anything but this, but he couldn't argue with their decision, because deep down he knew it was the right one. He knew it was the only way to keep the ship safe, the only way to truly free the captain of the fel that she'd given herself over to freely.

"...I'll bring the barrier down and suppress the fel in her at the same time. You might only have seconds to act," Khadgar said, opening the cell door with a thought, but leaving the barrier up. 

The demon was actually frowning now. "Really, Guardian? You would allow them to kill one of their own on your watch?" he asked, tapping right into Khadgar's insecurities. "Imagine how this diplomatic mission will end, when you tell them that you convinced the emissary to murder the captain of the ship. Will Stormwind ever forgive you for ruining their chances?"

"I'm going to call out in Darnassian when I drop the barrier. Be ready," Khadgar said, not responding to the demon's taunts, even though it was obvious he was affected by them. His shield was strong but not consistent, the arcane flickering like lightning and the blue glow in his eyes brightening and dimming with it.

The elves readied themselves, and Khadgar closed his eyes for a few moments before opening them again. "Anar'shala!" he said, and all at once he dropped the barrier and instead focused every ounce of his energy on a suppression spell, switch into an incantation in an ancient Titan language. 

It was over quickly, and the second the captain was dead, the glow faded from Khadgar's eyes and hands and he fled the room.

He made it to the deck and to the railing before he threw up over the side, and then he dropped down to sit with his back against the railing, his eyes stinging with tears. 

He'd failed, again. He'd cleansed her of the fel and yet she'd still been able to call out to that demon–not just any demon, but the one that seemed to be hounding his every step, preying on every weakness, waiting on him to slip up.

And this time, it showed up right after he'd managed to alienate the closest friend he had, somehow. 

He hadn't been ready to take this on; if Medivh had somehow survived, had managed to break free of the fel, he would surely have this all in hand. Khadgar was barely keeping one step ahead of the Legion, when he wasn't falling a step behind, like today.

He buried his face in his hands and ignored the sympathetic, awkward looks he was getting from the deck crew and the two Stormwind guards nearby; surely now they would be passing along to all they knew that the supposed Guardian of Azeroth was having some kind of mental breakdown.

It wasn't far off the truth, anyway.

#

Anduin assisted as much as the Elves would let him with cleaning up the brig and preparing the body for funeral rites, but they preferred to do much of it themselves and Thelae told him that the ceremony itself would be private to their people. Understandable, and a relief to him–he hadn't known the captain personally, and hearing all the foul words the demon said come from her lips made it hard for him to be empathetic to her death. He was, of course, deeply sympathetic to Thelae and her crew; he knew what it was like, unfortunately, to take part in killing a friend.

It might have been easier for them if the demon had taken over as it had with Medivh, and tried to with Khadgar. Perhaps the demon knew that. When your childhood friend started sprouting horns and then grew as tall and thick as a building, it was easier to separate the person they were from the monster you had to cut down.

He had no qualms whatsoever with dropping a golem on Medivh's ugly head as he'd stalked toward him through the font, larger than an orc and with more muscles, glowing with the fel.

Not easier in the aftermath, of course. When he saw Medivh's pale face riddled with the guilt of what he'd done. He couldn't even bear to look at him. He was lucky his gryphon had come when it had in some ways, because if he had had to stay and help Khadgar clean up after that, he wasn't sure he would have been able to.

Clean up he had, though, he mused. He had been the one to tell Anduin that Medivh had turned to the fel and needed to be struck down. He was the one who had stayed on at Karazhan when it was apparent it was overtaken with evil. He was the one who had started all of this, for the greater good. Now one Night Elf they didn't know willingly offers herself to this _Burning Legion_ and Khadgar can't even stomach the idea of killing her?

In fact he didn't blame Khadgar this time for fleeing, but as with Medivh, _he_ had chosen to come to the brig, so leaving them with the aftermath wasn't exactly fair of the mage, either.

Sighing, he went to find him. It alleviated some of the irritation though when he saw him curled over on himself on the deck. He went and sat near him, not touching, offering his presence and waiting to see if he wanted to speak.

#

Khadgar heard the soft footfalls of someone joining him against the rail, and at first he didn't look up, didn't respond. Wasn't sure he could. It was all too much.

But after a minute, he felt more in control of his own voice, the arcane not humming under his skin like boiling water.

"I'm sorry, Anduin," he said weakly, dropping his hands from his face but not looking up yet, though he wasn't sure what he was apologizing for. Fleeing the brig? Being unable to save her in the first place? Being a poor excuse for a Guardian at all?

For whatever he'd done to cause Anduin so much anguish?

He supposed it was all of the above, though a simple 'sorry' would never be good enough.

#

"Why did you go down to talk to her alone?" Anduin asked, ignoring Khadgar's broken–sounding apology. It tore at his heart, and made him feel like he should apologize, too, but he didn't know for _what._ "Why didn't you get me?"

He gripped his hands in front of him, as if he could wring his troubles out of them.

He supposed he knew why, though. They hadn't spoken in three days, and he wasn't even sure what they'd been fighting about. Whether or not it was dangerous for the Alliance to have them involved with each other as they were? What sort of fight was that?

"You don't have to answer that," he corrected himself. He wished he were a little more sober for this conversation, but he honestly hadn't expected to see Khadgar until they reached Darnassus. The mage seemed content enough ignoring him, and Anduin was adept at avoiding his problems.

"You're so different from everyone else," Anduin said finally. "You were right to remind me before that you aren't a warrior. It was why I was so hard on you at first. You seemed like you would be eaten alive by this war, and I wanted you out of it."

He cast a sideways glance toward Khadgar. "That, and you are so very easy to make blush." It was hard to resist the temptation to tease when your target was such an easy mark.

He wasn't sure if Khadgar was listening to him or not, but he kept talking doggedly. "You've proven yourself more than capable. You've faced down everything with bravery, and I'm proud of you. But it makes it easy for me to forget you aren't one of Stormwind's soldiers, or a king. Or even really the guardian, yet. Not any more than I'm a king. Seeing someone murdered in front of you is never easy. You did well. There was no saving her. You yourself had to fight it off, and you hadn't invited it in like she had."

Anduin looked across the water, and wished that he could see land.

"I've missed you," he whispered fiercely.

#

From Anduin's first words Khadgar was expecting a scolding, so he was surprised when Anduin took back the questions as quickly as he'd asked them–and then even more surprised when he kept talking, let alone what he was actually saying. He looked up at the warrior, a strange mix of confusion and hope on his features.

"I didn't really want to be in this war either, believe me," he muttered with a laugh. He'd known during his time at the Kirin Tor that eventually he would be called upon as a battle mage because of his abilities–and then, when he was chosen as the Guardian Initiate, he knew he would be in conflicts nearly all his life–but it was one thing to know that, and another thing to live it. And yet another entirely to be suddenly thrown into it when technically his training had never even been completed.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I just wanted one person to pull through it, that's all," he admitted, staring down at the wooden deck of the ship. "I wanted one person to be able to fight off the fel influence, to show that it can be done. That it's not a death sentence to fall victim to it. Just a _little_  bit of hope that those who fall aren't...lost to us forever. I was being naive, I know."

He paused, swallowing hard and blinking back tears. "Every day, every nightmare I have, I wonder if I could have saved Medivh. If I'd just done one thing differently, if I'd been just a little stronger. He was the _Guardian_ , Anduin, I...despite all he'd done, I just can't help..."

He shook his head and finally looked up again, feeling the warmth he'd been missing these past three days slowly returning. "Light, I've missed you too," he said, and then he laughed weakly. "We're both complete idiots, aren't we?"

#

"He was a _demon,"_ Anduin corrected in a hiss. "That was not Medivh. Not any longer. He'd lost that battle."

Anduin put his forehead in his palm, elbow on his knee, and tugged at his hair. He and Khadgar had the same nightmare, then. He wished to the Light he could forget Medivh's dear face corrupted by those horns, the craggy gashes, those horrible eyes. It was less, now, as time had passed, but those first few weeks Callan wasn't the only reason he drank.

It would never be long enough, though.

He could still remember running through fields with him as a child, Llane and he with their swords, Medivh shooting sparks of magic around them, not yet trained.

"You fought it off," Anduin said with sudden clarity. "If you're looking to someone, look to yourself, Khadgar. Twice now and you've been able to withstand it. You're the hope you're looking for. You're just trying to find it outside of yourself, and it isn't here."

#

Khadgar looked up at Anduin in surprise; he hadn't even begun to think of it that way, not because he thought it didn't count, but because he'd almost given in each time–and he'd been thinking of that temptation as a failure on his part.

He'd been disappointed in himself for being tempted at all, instead of looking at resisting that temptation as a victory.

"How is it that you always know the right things to say?" he asked with a laugh, the first time he'd actually laughed in...well, days. He sobered then, though–because he had to wonder if Anduin's remarkable ability with diplomacy would be able to get them through this one.

"Was he right, Anduin? Have I ruined our chances with the Night Elves?" he said softly, looking back down at the deck. "I wouldn't have used my magic if there were any other way I could see to fix things, but still...I know they're not going to see it that way. They're going to see me as...uncontrolled. A liability in their alliance. At this point, I'm wondering if they might not let me in the city at all. Might end up waiting for you at the docks," he added with another laugh, less humor to this one than the first.

#

Khadgar's laugh was enough to shock him out of his melancholy. Anduin glanced over at him, happy to see a little humor in his large brown eyes.

"It's not up to the people on this ship," Anduin said. "But aside from that, if they blamed you the captain would still be alive, and you'd be in the brig. Don't listen to what a demon has to say. You should know better by now."

He examined Khadgar's expression, taking in all the self-doubt he found there and hurting for the younger man. He was used to having to inspire his troops, even when things looked like they could only end in death. It was why he shied away from talking about the things that worried him except with the closest of his friends and family. It was his responsibility to bolster morale.

He reached over and took Khadgar's fingers in one of his hands, giving them a light squeeze. "The Priestess asked for you. She knows what you are. It was their fault for asking you to be something different. Stop worrying so much."

#

Khadgar was more eager than he'd admit to readily grip Anduin's hand with his own. Before Anduin, physical comfort had been just a novel idea, something he hadn't often experienced and didn't really expect to, either; but now, he craved it, having known how much one simple touch could do to ease his mind.

He'd missed it more than he'd known.

"I'm sorry for...whatever I said that made you think I thought this was a mistake," he finally said, any anger that he once had at the other man gone. He didn't have any energy left for anger right now, truth be told. "My tutors at the Kirin Tor always told me my biggest weakness was thinking too _much_. And they were right."

#

"Please don't apologize," Anduin said. "It wasn't your fault. It's just that your questions reminded me of my own fears."

He looked back out to the water. "I've..." He couldn't finish what he was about to say, though. His mind was on the decisions he'd made in the past, all the times he'd put king and country over his own family, over Callan, his own son. If he'd been paying attention to him during the battle, maybe he would have lived.

Maybe Llane would have died a lot sooner. There was simply no right action in his mind, and there was no right action for him in this situation, either, it seemed. If he pushed Khadgar away, he knew he would regret it until the end of his days. If he destroyed a kingdom because of his selfishness, though...would it be worse? Or just different? Now that he _was_ king, and not just protecting the king, things seemed even blurrier than they had been before.

But who was to say this wouldn't just make the kingdom stronger, to have regent and guardian working so closely together? There would be no conflict on the battlefield, at least. His personal desires and duties would finally match up with regard to whom he was supposed to protect.

"I've always chosen the kingdom," he said finally, his voice thick. "In the past. My son is dead for it, and Medivh lost. If I had just taken the time to check on him sooner, in person, maybe this could have been avoided."

#

"If he was clever enough to hide his corruption from another mage, then you wouldn't have had any idea there was something wrong," Khadgar pointed out; he still wondered if he may have missed some clue on his very first visit, some sign that the Guardian wasn't well.

But he couldn't change it now, as much as he'd like to.

He hesitantly scooted over a bit, until he could easily lean his head on Anduin's shoulder. "We both said stupid things," he said, taking in the feeling of closeness, the intoxicating warmth that he'd been without for the past three days. Then, he laughed, seemingly out of nowhere. "I've read all the books I brought along three times each. I can't take much more of it," he joked, squeezing Anduin's hand.

#

"I _knew_ him though," Anduin said. "I knew him since we were children together. I don't know how I missed it."

He couldn't keep going along that train of thought, though; not when Khadgar had apparently figured out how to distract him so effectively.

He took a glance around the ship. Two of his guards were making no effort to pretend they weren't watching them; one tripped over herself trying to turn around; and the last one was actually working, helping one of the Night Elves with the rigging.

The Night Elf crew, meanwhile, were no less subtle, several of them whispering to one another.

Well, it's not like they could hide it now, not with the young guardian pressing up against their regent in broad daylight on the top deck. If he really wanted to embarrass himself, he could try to explain he was only offering Khadgar comfort, but it's not like they were stupid. No one would believe him.

Anduin raised an eyebrow at the two who were gawking. They both startled into each other. Deliberately, he put two fingers under Khadgar's chin, raising his mouth so he could kiss it.

#

Khadgar blinked in surprise at first, though it only took a moment for him to relax into the kiss, letting it linger until he realized he'd forgotten to breathe. He broke the kiss and raised his eyebrow at Anduin, completely oblivious to the fact that they had an audience of two different races.

"What was that for?" he asked, though it was obvious from his tone that he really, really hadn't minded it. Not one bit.

If Anduin thought he wasn't sharing his bed tonight, he'd be poorly mistaken, that was for sure. 

#

"We have three days," Anduin said. "And you just told me you're bored."

He cast a subtle glance toward the rest of the ship, indicating the obvious eavesdroppers.

"I don't think this is a secret anymore, and you know all of Stormwind will hear at least twenty different versions of this before we reach the castle." He smiled, a little wickedly. "Shouldn't we give them something to actually talk about?"

Also, he couldn't think of a better way to keep his mind off his troubles and his past.

#

Khadgar actually looked around them for the first time since Anduin had joined him, and really, he didn't know why he hadn't expected it–the furtive glances they were getting, the whispered conversations. His face immediately reddened, and he groaned.

"Well, we just gave the gossip mill of both cities about a full month worth of material," he muttered, though he sounded more resigned than anything else. It was bound to happen eventually.

Unlike before, though, he really could not care less right about now.

He did raise an eyebrow at Anduin, though. "Just what did you have in mind?" he asked with amused suspicion.

#

"Conveniently," Anduin leaned closer until his lips brushed Khadgar's ear. "I know the schedules of those two guards, because I set them."

He sat back and smiled down at the mage with a wink. "People looking for trouble should get it, don't you think?"

#

Khadgar gave Anduin a _look_. "You aren't really suggesting what I think you're suggesting, are you?" he asked, even though they both already knew the answer to that. Because of course Anduin would want to play a prank like that on his men.

Khadgar couldn't deny that it did raise morale with the others to be able to laugh at their comrades' expense, occasionally.

"Why do I go along with your schemes? I should be discouraging you," Khadgar pointed out, leaning in to kiss Anduin lightly. He really wasn't one to talk, considering how much he put his own guards through on a regular basis just by being himself.

#

Anduin grinned, then leaned close to his ear again. "Because you love me," he said, his voice gravelly. "That is what you said, isn't it?"

Intrigued that Khadgar was allowing him to kiss him in public, he nibbled the ear in front of him, then scraped his teeth along the skin on his neck, finally kissing where it met his shoulder. 

He glanced over at the guards. They obviously didn't know what to do with themselves, pretending to look out toward the empty sea, then around the deck, then back at Anduin, only to look away again. They couldn't leave; they were on duty. Anduin grinned at them wolfishly. 

Let them try to meddle in his love life. 

#

Khadgar had been without this long enough the he couldn't bring himself to care where they were or who was watching. 

"You know I do," he said, tilting his head without thought as Anduin worked his way down his neck–probably leaving faint marks, another thing that Khadgar really didn't care about right now. 

If there was one thing Anduin absolutely excelled at, it was distracting Khadgar, evidenced by the fact that Khadgar wasn't paying their audience much mind when Anduin was kissing his neck like that.

#  


"And you know I love you too," Anduin said, even lower. "Why don't we go give them something else to talk about right now, in my cabin? Or do you want to give them a show."

He chuckled, and licked the skin of Khadgar's collarbone experimentally. 

Anduin had never been shy when he was interested in someone, and up until then the only thing holding him back was Khadgar's reservations, and thoughts of their positions. Not being together was obviously not working for them though, so Anduin didn't know why they'd bother being subtle when they were the worst kept secret on the ship already.

Perhaps it would send a warning to the Darnassians not to lock Khadgar up again, besides.

"I think whatever damage has been done to our reputations as allies has been done," he pointed out. 

#

Khadgar shivered and closed his eyes for just a few moments before he decided that if they were going to continue this, he really, really wanted it to be in a bed. He pulled Anduin back up into a firm, almost desperate kiss, dragging his tongue along the man's lower lip before pulling away and standing up.

"Well, you coming?" he asked Anduin with a smirk, only glancing at the speechless guards as he left the deck to head for Anduin's cabin.

And by the Light, he planned to do as little actual thinking as possible for the rest of the night.

#

Anduin grinned at him, and called after him, loudly, "I hope so."

Only the Stormwind guards would understand him, anyway, and they deserved it.

_Let_ that _get back to Dion,_  Anduin thought vindictively. 

And Thelae, apparently, who had just come up from below deck. She raised an eyebrow, but it was merely inquisitive. That was enough to make him blush, but she couldn't have possibly have heard Khadgar, so part of his dignity was still intact.

He gave her a gentler smile, and a wave of guilt washed over him. They had just killed their captain, her friend, and here he was going to fuck the guardian like it was the best day of his life. 

It would worry him more, except that sort of thing just made him feel like he should seize opportunities to live and be happy while he could. 

He hastened after Khadgar.

He felt like he was a teenager again, running through back alleys and finding deserted storerooms in the barracks.

#

Khadgar waited for Anduin to step into the room, and in a second, he'd shut the door and was pushing Anduin back against it, kissing him hard. He wanted to forget, _needed_ to forget for a while, and on top of that, he'd _missed_ Anduin. A lot.

They could worry about diplomacy and the Darnassians and the fel and the Alliance later. Right now, he just needed a moment for just himself and Anduin, and he was pretty sure Anduin felt the same.

"At least you're not wearing armor," he muttered, tugging insistently at Anduin's shirt.

#

Anduin stumbled backward, taken off guard as Khadgar pounced at him. 

He groaned into the forceful kiss and grabbed the back of Khadgar's head, holding on as the mage tugged at his clothes. "Remind me to fight with you more often," he growled, smiling and following it up with a thorough kiss to make sure he knew he was kidding. 

He slid his other hand up under Khadgar's clothes, running it over his stomach and to his back before sliding it down into his pants. He cupped Khadgar's ass and gave it a squeeze, fingers positioned between the rounded cheeks. 

"Forget how to take off a shirt?" He teased, baring his neck in clear invitation for Khadgar, since he was being so aggressive. 

Anduin was far from complaining. 

#

Khadgar very nearly growled at the idea, because like hell was he letting them do something that completely stupid again. He kissed his way down Anduin's neck, leaving marks as he went, not entirely on purpose–but he wasn't trying not to, either.

"Maybe if you weren't _distracting_ me," he said, voice husky as Anduin's hands slid under his clothes. He yanked Anduin's shirt up and off, letting it land wherever it happened to fall as he sucked and nibbled at Anduin's collarbone.

He groaned and dropped his head forward against Anduin's chest as the other man squeezed his ass, and he couldn't help but thrust forward against him, his cock getting harder by the second. "Bed. Now," he demanded, pulling Anduin along as he walked backward toward the bed, unwilling to let go to actually get there.

#

"Distracting you?" Anduin laughed, but whatever rejoinder he was going to make was cut off by the buck of Khadgar's hips against his groin. "Ungh," he said eloquently. He let himself be led forward, trying to maintain the contact between their bodies as he went. He felt Khadgar hardening against him, and if he'd thought he couldn't be more turned on, he was wrong.

"What happened to being quiet, bookworm," he panted with a feral grin, taking Khadgar's lips in his own and setting to work ridding Khadgar of his clothes. "And aren't you bossy."

He shoved Khadgar backward–not that it took a lot of effort–and let his gaze rake over him. He stripped off his pants and straddled him, moaning as their cocks resumed contact, skin against skin. He nipped his way around Khadgar's chest, rocking against him.

#

"I can be quieter if you want, but _do_ you?" Khadgar asked, helping to remove his shirt, then kick his pants off...somewhere. The room was quickly becoming a mess of clothing tossed wherever. 

He wasn't expecting the shove when the back of his knees hit the bed, and he landed with an 'oof', quickly arching into the contact when Anduin straddled him. He tangled a hand in Anduin's hair and tugged him back up into a breathless kiss, letting his tongue explore for just a few moments.

Khadgar suddenly broke the kiss and grinned, and then he did exactly what Anduin had taught in that brief 'combat lesson'–he braced his feet on the bed and thrust his hips up, shoving Anduin over onto his back and landing on top of him, straddling his hips. "I don't see you complaining about my 'bossiness'," he said with a smirk before moving to suck a dark mark into the skin at the base of Anduin's throat.

....maybe they should both wear something high collared for the diplomacy meeting.

#

"Holy Light," Anduin groaned incoherently. He noticed Khadgar managed the move _he had taught him_  and felt a brief flash of smug pride at the proof that the mage did pay attention to him. "You're a quick study," he laughed throatily. He strained upward, seeking more friction for his painfully hard length. He felt it leaking, and by Gods he might find release without Khadgar doing more than rutting against him. 

"And no," he said, grabbing Khadgar's ass with both hands and fingering it, "I want to be so loud that Stormwind and Darnassus hears us." 

He writhed under not-so-gentle love nips on his throat, heart pounding in his chest. He hadn't known the mage had it in him, but really, he should have guessed it was a matter of time. From the way he'd said _"Finally!"_ after breaking into _his_  barracks to a thousand other orders the other man had given him, it was only a matter of time before he got over his shyness in bed as well. 

He hadn't imagined giving up control like that could possibly feel so _good._

_#_

Well, of course he was. His ability to learn fast was one of the major reasons he'd excelled so far, probably the main reason he'd been chosen as the next Guardian. He did pay attention, to everything. Especially to Anduin.

This was just applying those skills in...new areas of expertise, really.

He ground his hips down against Anduin's when the man's hands gripped him once again–and really, Anduin had a _thing_ for his ass, it seemed–but he didn't stay put long. He trailed kisses downward until he was settled between Anduin's legs, and he gripped the base of his cock firmly with one hand as he ran his tongue lightly over the tip. "What, not settling for just the whole ship now?" he teased, and then he took Anduin's cock into his mouth, cheeks hallowing as he moved downward till his mouth met where his hand was gripping it.

#

Anduin's eyes rolled upward, and it took every shred of willpower he had not to thrust straight into the back of Khadgar's warm throat. His fingers dug into the blankets. "Since when have I ever settled?" He countered when he regained some of his wits. "I'm probably aiming too low, with just the coasts. Khadgar." He swallowed. "Just."

He wanted to beg him to _move_ , but he was also enthralled with discovering what Khadgar wanted to do with him, now that he was taking command. He let his legs fall farther apart. He couldn't help the aborted motions of his hips though as his cock sought more friction. He was almost trembling with the effort to remain still. 

#

Khadgar knew better what to expect this time, so he could better focus on Anduin's reactions–once again, putting that fast learning to good use. He pulled back until just the head was in his mouth, swirled his tongue around it, and dipped down to meet his hand again, all at a much slower pace than what Anduin was probably asking for.

He pulled off achingly slowly, pumping Anduin's cock with his hand as he spoke. "Just what?" he asked with a mischievous smirk before taking him in again.

Even though the suction was tight, he still moved slow taking him all the way down to his hand at the base again, wondering just how long Anduin would last before either begging, making demands, or taking control back. He wasn't sure which one it would be, and he found that any of them were just as attractive an idea as the last.

#

" _Faster._ " Anduin managed to get out, almost choking on the word. His hand buried itself in the thick hair on the back of Khadgar's head, caressing his scalp encouragingly but _Light_  he wanted to just shove him down over his cock. The mage was torturing him on purpose. What he was doing was too good for him to want to risk stopping him, though, slow pace or not. 

As Khadgar drew away again he couldn't help but buck upwards, seeking the wet heat of his mouth. He barely stopped himself from going too far. 

" _Khadgar."_  His breath was shallow, stomach tight with need. The mage had gotten him so hard that he _hurt._  He wished he could be inside of him, like some of the men had described in the barracks, but he didn't know how to ask for it, and he wasn't quite sure how to do it without hurting the other man. 

But he wanted desperately to feel all of him, push him into the bed and _take_  him. 

This was an agonizingly good alternative to that nonetheless. If the mage would just stop teasing and _move._

"Just remember you're going to get as good as you give," he warned and promised, struggling against the pace Khadgar was setting.

#

Khadgar moaned around Anduin's cock as the man's hand tangled into his hair and caressed his scalp; _Light_ , that felt good.

He would have made some kind of snarky remark in return, but obviously his mouth was a little occupied at the moment. He kept up the slow pace just a bit longer, until he felt Anduin start to have less and less control over the shallow thrusts upward he was giving.

Instead of speeding up, Khadgar moved his free hand to Anduin's hip and gave it a squeeze, relaxing his jaw a little; basically, giving him permission to thrust more freely, so long as he didn't go too deep with it. The man already had a hand in his hair, holding him in place somewhat, so he was putting a bit of trust in him here.

His own cock was straining against the bed beneath him, and it took all his willpower not to rut against the sheets even as he sucked Anduin off, but he didn't want his attention divided; he moaned around Anduin once more, looking up at him even as he took him in deeper.

#

The vibrations in Khadgar's throat from the noise he made did Anduin in; he barely shouted out a warning in courtesy before he was shooting his seed into Khadgar's mouth, thrusting upwards gratefully with newfound freedom. He was careful not to choke the mage, but neither did he entirely have control over himself as he finished. 

He lay there a moment in wonder, staring at the ceiling, his chest heaving. "You're incredible," he said in awe. He sat up, reaching out to take Khadgar by his arms. He stared at his flushed and red-lipped face and thought he'd never seen anything so appealing. He drew Khadgar into a ravishing kiss.

"What would you like?" Anduin asked, his eyes half-lidded and his voice a low rumble. He reached his hand between them to massage the head of Khadgar's cock.

#

Khadgar barely managed not to choke as Anduin thrust up into his mouth; barely, but he managed it, and swallowed thickly while trying not to actually taste.

He was lucky that the noises from Anduin and the look on his face didn't send Khadgar right over the edge with him. It was a close thing, but he kept control and tried to catch his breath as Anduin pulled him up. 

He smiled into the kiss at the praise, though, a low whine leaving him as Anduin's hand rubbed at the head of his cock, his hips bucking up into the touch. "Light, _anything_ –not going to last–" he warned, because he was still on edge just from driving Anduin to release. 

#

"Mm? Anything?" Anduin grinned at him, and slid his fingers forward to tightly hold the base of Khadgar's cock. He repositioned them until Khadgar was seated on the bed and he was kneeling on the floor between his legs. 

He stared at the other man's erection for a moment, enthralled by knowing he'd gotten the mage that hard. Without torturing him further though he bent and took Khadgar in his mouth, humming just as he had done as he'd gone down on Anduin. He opened his throat as best he could, trying to swallow as much of his length as he was able. 

He released Khadgar's length from his grip and slid his palm down to cup his balls gently, fondling them as he worked his mouth over him.

#

Khadgar grunted as Anduin's hand gripped tightly at the base of his cock, and he tangled both hands in the blankets on the bed with a white knuckled grip. 

"Light, _Anduin_ ," he choked out, one hand flying to grip Anduin's hair a little tighter than he meant to. 

Just like he'd warned, he didn't last long at all. The vibrations around him and the gentle hand massaging his balls was enough to make him cry out–louder than he'd intended–as he came into Anduin's mouth. 

#

Anduin swallowed him down, finally getting the knack of it. He didn't even mind the rough pull on his hair, loving how possessive it felt to have Khadgar clutching at him. 

"That's it," he soothed, rubbing circles into the skin between leg and hip with his thumbs and drawing himself up to flop on the bed next to the mage. 

He propped himself up by one elbow. "I think that probably was enough to wake Stormwind." He smiled. He reached out and brushed Khadgar's thick hair away from his forehead, then kissed him languidly. 

#

Khadgar's skin reddened even more, because honestly, for all the talk, he hadn't _meant_ to be that loud.

But he could quite literally blame Anduin, so.

He cuddled in close to Anduin and returned the kiss lazily, still catching his breath as the pleasure thrummed through his body. 

"We're going to get ourselves into trouble if we keep that up," he pointed out with a smile into the kiss, though he certainly didn't look or sound opposed. He could deal with a few lectures about noise complaints if it meant he got to keep _this_.

#

"I'm counting on it," Anduin grinned, and began massaging the small of Khadgar's back, enjoying how pliant he felt in his arms. "It's been far too long since I've had this much fun."

He kissed Khadgar again, closing his eyes this time to truly just feel the younger man against his body. He was a solid, warm, comforting weight, and if he just focused on that moment everything seemed right in the world for the first time in recent memory.

He opened his eyes again to meet Khadgar's, drinking in the warmth he saw reflected there, and letting his gaze travel down to his full lips and back up again. "You feel so right," he said huskily. " _Thank you."_

Anduin was pretty sure he was just thanking Khadgar for existing, at that point.

#

Khadgar was taking in the moment just as much, focusing on this one thing that was right, this one thing that was perfect–only to find blue eyes intensely focused on him when he looked up to Anduin. 

He smiled brightly and laughed at Anduin's words. "You're welcome...?" he said with a questioning, teasing tone. "I'm not sure what I did, but..."

He paused, the words catching in his throat as he instead pulled Anduin into another lingering kiss. " _Light_ , I love you," he whispered against Anduin's lips, the words almost more felt than heard. 

#

" _That,"_  Anduin said. " _That_  is what I'm thanking you for. For looking at me like that," he swallowed. "I didn't think I'd feel this way again in this lifetime."

He shook his head slightly, brushing Khadgar's lips again with his own. "I don't know how either of us could have questioned this," he murmured. He pressed their foreheads together, enjoying the way their breath mingled, and gathered Khadgar closer to him.

"Though I do hope the Darnassians are an open-minded people," he said, with a wry chuckle. "I'm not giving this up. I've sacrificed too much as it is. But it would help to have them on our side."

#

Khadgar's smile brightened a bit as Anduin's words hit him–that he'd truly made this man happy. It was more than he ever could have asked for, to find someone he loves, that he could truly make their life better just by being in it at all.

It was a powerful feeling. Leagues more intoxicating than anything the fel could offer. 

"Darnassians turn into animals as a hobby. They've no right to judge," he joked, kissing Anduin for a moment before tucking his head under the man's chin, nuzzling in as close as he could get.

And sure, Druids were far more complex than that, but right now Khadgar didn't care.

#

That surprised a laugh out of Anduin, his shoulders shaking with mirth. 

It was like a balm to his heart to hear Khadgar regain some of his sharp humor. 

"Don't say that around Thelae," he half-joked. "I'd rather make it to our destination without being thrown to the Naga."

#

Khadgar laughed too, and really–it felt _good_ to laugh, after all this. Of course, it felt equally good to sleep, which after not much longer, he was doing just that.

Luckily for both of them, the last days of the journey were relatively uneventful, and soon enough the shores of Darnassus were coming into view. The World Tree was massive, reaching up past where anyone could see, into the clouds; and at the dock, Darnassian soldiers waited with hippogryphs to transport the party to the top of the World Tree.

The commander of the Darnassus forces met them on the dock, and suddenly, it was like that first day on the ship in Stormwind–Khadgar could feel every Elven eye on him, most with a glare or at least an expression of disgust.

This time though, Khadgar didn't falter. He kept his chin high as he stepped off the ship; he would have to explain himself, and he was ready to do so. He needed to look as confident in his decisions as he felt. He knew it might come across as arrogance at first, but that was better than appearing a coward, after what he'd had to do on board this ship.

The commander and Thelae saluted each other, and the commander bowed briefly toward Anduin–and gave Khadgar a quick, barely-there nod. "Regent. Guardian. Emissary," she said in greeting, her full height with armor and glaives making an intimidating picture. "Where is the captain? Why is your vessel damaged? Did you come under attack?" 

#

"Yes," Thelae responded for them. "And it is an unpleasant story. We were attacked by the Naga, and then by one of our own. I will need to speak of it to you in private."

The commander looked as if she wanted to force the issue, but Thelae broke in. "It was an ordeal, Commander. Let us bring our guests to their rooms to refresh themselves before speaking with our Priestess."

Anduin could have kissed her. 

He also could have kissed Khadgar, even though that was true at any given moment these days as it was. He was so proud of him for how he held himself, the traces of doubt and self–loathing he'd succumbed to on their journey gone. He couldn't help the sideways looks he gave him as they walked, his expression admiring. 

Here was a Guardian he felt confident the Darnassians would respect. 

He didn't expect Khadgar to feel any differently inside, or even put away his fears in private, between the two of them. But the way he held himself in front of the commander and the welcoming committee spoke well of their negotiations. 

#

Two reluctant soldiers were assigned to get Anduin and Khadgar up to where they'd be staying, slinging their bags into the saddlebags on the hippogryphs; it was a short ride up, and familiar from riding on gryphons, if not tense with silence. 

But if the docks had been bad, the city was worse. Obviously word had spread of the delegation from Stormwind, and who exactly would be visiting the city, and the citizens seemed of two minds–respectful deference toward Stormwind's regent, and fear or anger toward the Guardian with him.

"I'm beginning to feel like they aren't very fond of me," Khadgar joked softly to Anduin as a mother dragged a younger Night Elf away from the path they were taking, speaking to him in hushed tones. Khadgar kept his head high and shoulders square, though, trying desperately not to let the chilly reception get to him.

The soldiers stopped at a row of well-guarded stone buildings just adjacent the massive temple, which Khadgar could have spent hours just studying from floor to roof.

"These two will be your private quarters while you are here," one of the soldiers said, pointing to two of the small stone structures, each guarded by two royal guards. "The guards speak...limited Common, but they should be able to attend to your needs. Let them know when you are ready, and they will notify the High Priestess."

#

Anduin put a reassuring hand on Khadgar's shoulder. "That's because they don't know you yet," he said firmly. 

He eyed the two buildings when they approached, but decided that was a battle best left to fight after they'd met with the Priestess and got a better idea of what she wanted with Khadgar present, and had a sense of how the overall negotiations would go. It was one thing to be loud and raucous on a ship, if only to annoy a crew who had hurt Khadgar both physically and emotionally for very little cause, and another to do it in the capital city of their potential allies. 

He nodded at his own guards, who had been embarrassed by then into impeccably good behavior. "Go with them to their barracks and get to know one another," he instructed.

"How are we supposed to do that, sir, if we can't even understand them?" One of the guards asked hesitantly.

Anduin smiled. "I'm sure you'll do fine, Theodar."

The guards marched off with some of the Night Elf retinue. He had a feeling this visit would be good for his own people as well. 

He nodded to Khadgar, searching his eyes for some sign that he understood these accommodations were temporary. "I'll see you in a bit," he said, and went to get settled, which didn't take very long at all.

Soon they were on their way to the Temple, and Anduin was fighting back his own fears. It was true he had appealed to Greymane and the Dark Irons, but those had yielded little success. This would be a test of his power as a diplomat and regent, and he honestly wasn't sure how he'd measure up.

#

Khadgar was glad they gave him a chance to freshen up after a week on a ship; he desperately needed it. By the time they gathered to go to the meeting, he was clean, refreshed, and in his best clothes–which weren't much, really, but better than his usual garb. He even left his blue cloak behind; he didn't want to look like he had anything to hide.

The temple was even bigger than it first appeared. Every wall was inscribed with murals and prayers, and Khadgar had to fight not to get distracted as they were led to the upper levels.

There, standing by a large meeting table and talking with her attendants, was Tyrande Whisperwind. Khadgar, of course, knew she held high position here, but he hadn't been sure if she was still the High Priestess, and he was relieved to see it. Her reputation preceded her as a fierce fighter and a wise, generous leader.

She smiled gently upon seeing them, and she bowed deeply–to _both_ of them. "Regent Anduin Lothar of Stormwind. And our young Guardian. Khadgar, is it?" she asked, her voice almost like music. "I am so pleased that you've come. I..."

She paused, and her expression turned to a frown as she looked at Khadgar–and he had to fight down the panic at those immeasurably wise eyes focusing on him. "Come here, Guardian. Have no fear," she said, holding out her hands.

Khadgar glanced at Anduin before stepping forward, unable to hide his nervousness anymore as he put his hands in hers, much to the displeasure of her attendants and commander. Tyrande, though, just tugged his sleeves up to reveal the bandages still encircling his wrists.

"My people bound you?" she asked, and then her mouth turned up in a smirk. "And you allowed them to?"

"It's...a long story. I don't hold it against them, Priestess," he said, and she shook her head.

"Please, both of you. Call me Tyrande. We are all friends here," she said–and to Khadgar's shock, she took off the bandages and handed them to her attendant–and with a short prayer and a soft golden glow, the burns vanished like they were never there. When he looked up at her in surprise, she was smiling.

"You're much younger than I thought you'd be," she said, reaching up to touch his face so lightly he might have imagined it. "But wise far beyond your years."

She stepped back and turned to Anduin, gesturing to the round table. "Shall we, then? We have much to discuss about your trip here and the situation in Kalimdor," she said while Khadgar still stood dumbfounded in place.

#


	7. Seventh Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar and Anduin visit the Night Elves and cement their alliance; Khadgar gets some new clothes and learns how to dance; Anduin gets a present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is something of an interlude :)

Anduin found it impossible not to relax in the presence of the High Priestess. Not only did she exude a sense of _rightness_ , her respect to Khadgar and her healing of his injuries instilled a deep feeling of love toward her.

If the Night Elves were led by such a ruler, perhaps they would be able to forge a strong Alliance. This was someone who cared for all life, Anduin thought. This was someone who would dedicate themselves to protecting Azeroth as he and Khadgar did.

After exchanging bows and pleasantries, he followed Tyrande's lead and sat at the table, clapping Khadgar on his shoulder to startle him out of what appeared to be shock. He sent a teasing grin his way, not unlike the mocking looks he gave them in the beginning of their friendship. He looked far too young and bewildered from Tyrande's kind treatment.

"I cannot tell you how sorry I am that this threat has reached your shores," Anduin began, his voice befitting his station. "I wish I could bring better news, but the fel and these Orcs are destroying our continent. Where they go the land dies, and they are a threat to life itself. Their leader, Gul'dan, has taken countless lives. It has been in excess of the normal loss of war. His objective is to decimate, not subdue."

Tyrande looked deeply troubled, but not surprised by his words.

"I have been going to the peoples of the surrounding nations, but it has been hard to convince them of the threat when their lands remain intact. They do not understand that it is a matter of time before the war spreads to them. Most still believe they can remain neutral. But Gul'dan is taking and corrupting the lives of his own people. He has infected them with the fel." He paused. "It does not seem to abide by any boundaries. It happened to the last Guardian, as I know you are aware. A recluse who lived away from others. And...it had taken over your captain on our voyage here. We were lucky to have Khadgar on board, or all of us on that ship would be forfeit."

#

Khadgar sat down next to Anduin at the large table, letting him take the lead on the conversation as he got his mind around what just happened. Not only did Tyrande have a completely different way of treating him than her people, but she'd healed him–treated him as an equal.

It was the first time in a while anyone aside from Anduin and Taria had bothered to do so.

"I have examined the captain's body myself, and the fel damage to the ship," Tyrande said, her tone darker now, white eyes showing sorrow. "You made the right decision, choosing to contain and execute her. As much as I loathe to say it, even the Light of Elune could not have reached her."

Khadgar's shoulders relaxed just that much more, hearing that she didn't blame him for what had happened. "I am sorry, Tyrande. I thought cleansing her of the fel would be enough to give her a chance," he said, and Tyrande nodded.

"Your efforts are appreciated, Guardian. Elune thanks you for saving her people, regardless of the manner in which you did it," she said, aiming the last part mostly at her commander and attendants. "As to our troubles here, I'm afraid they are...dire. Not only have some of the Darkspear aligned with the Orcs, but the Orcs have been teaching them how to wield the fel."

Khadgar's heart sank. "And what of the Tauren? Surely they aren't willing to stand by and let this happen."

"They are refusing to be be involved. We can expect no aid from the south."

#

"So you've come to us for help," Anduin said, feeling a shard of despair lodge itself into his heart. He had hoped to come to the Elves for assistance, but it seemed they were fighting their own war under very similar conditions to that of his own people. "We cannot spread our forces any thinner or all will be lost."

They couldn't keep trying to contain the fel or the Horde without first stopping the source. It was like trying to stop sparks from spreading without dousing the fire. 

He glanced at Khadgar, then back to Tyrande. "This will continue to happen as long as Gul'dan exists. He must be stopped or we will have no hope. We do that, and then we can deal with these offshoot invasions."

#

"I had feared that would be the case. We are spread quite thin ourselves," Tyrande said, motioning to one of her attendants. The Night Elf brought over a rolled up map and unrolled it on the table, and Tyrande gestured as she spoke. "Our forces are holding the front at this mountain pass, and this valley–but we've had to fall back from this river and this part of the coast."

Khadgar frowned. "How many in number are these trolls?"

"Not many, yet. But their numbers grow by the day," Tyrande explained. "More and more turn to the Orcs to keep from being annihilated entirely. The Orcs offer them a preservation of their way of life in return for their aid in battle."

"So time is just as much of the essence here as it is in the Eastern Kingdoms," Khadgar muttered, deep in thought. If only there were a way to remove Gul'dan from the equation, they might have a chance.

"Guardian. I know you have already fought the fel. I heard of your battle at Karazhan," Tyrande said, her voice soft. "Tell me truthfully; can you defeat Gul'dan, given the chance?"

Khadgar took in a deep breath. "One-on-one...I...I don't know. The one time I've had to fight his influence, he'd caught me off guard, and he always has the aid of a demon on his side. A demon of the Burning Legion."

Tyrande's look was grim. "I see."

#

Anduin looked sharply at Khadgar. 

The problem was that the last time, they weren't fully working together. If they coordinated their efforts for once, what could they accomplish?

"It wouldn't have to be one-on-one," Anduin said. "Yes, Khadgar will need to fight his magic, but is that something that would be made easier if he had to fend of my physical attacks as well?"

He knew Khadgar wouldn't like that, but he didn't like what Khadgar would have to do, either.

"And forgive me, Tyrande, but I am unfamiliar with your magic. Can you help him if he does this?"

#

Khadgar could feel fear settling deep in him at the idea of facing Gul'dan again, but he did his best to keep his chin high and hide it. "You on your own wouldn't be able to distract him without it being a suicide mission," he said–Anduin had been at Gul'dan's mercy once, and Khadgar wouldn't let it happen again.

"If I sent my best druids and a few of my Priestesses to shield your men, that may be the edge needed," Tyrande said. "I can't spare many, and it will be a risk to us here, but if it means destroying the main source of their power, it is worth it."

She turned to look at Anduin. "We draw our power from the goddess Elune, the goddess of the moon. And our druids draw their power from nature itself. We can strike from the air and the land, and the Orcs in your own lands may be caught off guard. They will not be expecting nature herself to rise up against them. But doing this...would mean great losses on our other fronts. I do not want to take this on lightly."

#

Anduin nodded. "There is nothing to be taken lightly about this invasion. I would sacrifice my very life if it meant purging Gul'dan once and for all from this world. You say your druids draw from nature itself, but what will they draw from when Gul'dan kills everything that lives? Where he goes only death follows." He shook his head. "You know we have lost our king already to this invasion, and the Guardian. I have also lost my son. I know the losses we will face in this, but we have no other choice. We either risk everything or lose it all anyway."

And he would be risking it all, he knew, with Khadgar going up against Gul'dan. They were out of options, however. If the Night Elves were offering their assistance against the direct threat, then he couldn't say no to this opportunity. If they waited, the Horde would only grow stronger and the Alliance forces weaker as Azeroth died around them.

#

"My druids have encountered the fel. It is...difficult for them, but they do better each day," Tyrande admitted, and Khadgar nodded.

"I've been able to shield myself and others from the fel before. If it comes down to it, I can provide a temporary relief for them during the battle."

"Until you engage Gul'dan."

"Yes."

Tyrande watched them both for a moment, then nodded. "Let me speak with my commander and my priestesses. I don't expect an answer from you tonight, either. We will meet again tomorrow, when both of us have had time to think on this and make our decisions," she said, and then she smiled. "I do have two requests of you, though. One, that you both join myself and my priestesses for a banquet tonight."

"That's hardly too much to ask," Khadgar pointed out, though he had to wonder just how happy her priestesses would be about dining with a mage. 

"No, I thought not. The other request is for you, Guardian," Tyrande continued. "I'd like to request a formal duel between yourself and my most skilled druid. I think it will be good for them to both see that you are worthy of the title you've been bestowed, and to see how one of our own will fare if the enemy resorts to spells on the battlefield."

Khadgar stared in surprise for a few moments–a duel? He'd dueled other magic users before, back at Dalaran, but never someone on the outside. "I...suppose I could do that. Would it be safe?"

"My priestesses can maintain shields on you both. You will take hits, but no blood will be shed. You will be up against a shapeshifter, after all. His claws are...sharp, to say the least."

#

"We would be honored," Anduin agreed, standing. "Stormwind looks forward to working with you and your people as we decide what to do against this common enemy." He smiled at her. "And I appreciate your hospitality, Tyrande, and can only hope that our combined strength will be enough to stop this evil."

He dropped a hand on Khadgar's shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. "And I'm sure the duel will be something to behold. We will see you at the banquet, then."

"Until then," Tyrande stood as well, and they took their leave. 

Outside, Anduin laughed at Khadgar. "Try not to let the kitten win.”

#

Khadgar gave Anduin a half-hearted glare. "I've only dueled other mages. Never a druid," he said, looking out over the busy, forested city. The temple was on a hill, so the view from the steps was spectacular.

"I'd say that went well," he added, but then he frowned and sighed. "If we do this, though...we're basically going all in. Which means if we fail, we lose not only a good portion of your armies, but we lose this Elven alliance as well."

It was a gamble. He didn't know if he could defeat Gul'dan one on one, even if the Orc was distracted. He didn't know how much power the warlock could draw from that demon, either. 

Everything would rest on his shoulders, and the thought was...terrifying.

#

"If we don't go against Gul'dan we've lost already," Anduin said. "I'm tired of running our people ragged chasing after scraps. The fel is spreading. We can't defeat it. Our only chance is to remove the source." He gave Khadgar a sideways glance. "If you think you need more time, if it would help...if there's something you think you need to do before facing him, only say so. In that instance and that instance alone can we keep engaging them in skirmishes to buy more time." He frowned. "If you have any other ideas, spell–chucker, then you should say them."

Anduin nudged him with his elbow, half playful again. "And if you can't defeat their kitten, then just keep in mind that they will not believe you can defeat Gul'dan. Try not to worry about that too much." He grinned. 

He knew that Khadgar was probably out of his mind with worry already, but he hoped that teasing him about it would at least let him focus on irritation instead of the pressure he was under. 

Anduin paused for a moment, looking out across the watery byways and purple trees of Darnassus. The city was almost more forest than civilization. 

"Come," he said, touching Khadgar's elbow. "I have an idea of something we can do." 

He led him through the city, slow enough to take in the sights and unfamiliar architecture, until they arrived in at the Craftman's Terrace. "We're going to what equates to a royal banquet, and I'm willing to bet you haven't packed formal wear," he said with a hint of laughter in his voice. Anduin gestured to the shops. "Find something that suits you."

#  


"I don't think there's any preparation I could do that would make me more ready for this," Khadgar muttered. He didn't feel ready, but then again, he knew he never would. 

He also knew Anduin was right. If they didn't stop the fel now, they wouldn't be getting another chance. 

He laughed nervously. "No pressure or anything," he said, already trying to think of how he would counter a nightsaber. Or a bear.

He really didn't want to have to fight a bear. Blood or no blood, that sounded _painful_.

He gave Anduin an odd look as he lead him through the winding paths. "Where are we going...?" he asked, ignoring the looks they were getting as they moved through the city. When they did stop and Anduin gestured to the shops, Khadgar looked at him a bit comically wide-eyed. 

"I wouldn't know where to _start_ ," he pointed out, running his fingers through his already unruly hair. He was used to his simple robes and cloaks, loose fitting and easy to travel in; the most formal thing he'd been to was audiences with the Kirin Tor and Llane's funeral, and no one expected him to dress differently for those.

#  


"The tailor, bookworm," Anduin laughed, pointing him toward the sign over the shop they'd stopped in front of. "Come on. I've seen you face demons more confidently than this."

He gave Khadgar a playful shove, and they walked up the ramp into the open-air shop. The Night Elves were curious in that they left most of their structures open to the elements; where Stormwind was all stone walls and fortified structures, the Night Elves preferred wood and nature. 

"Greetings," he said to the shopkeeper. "Please, help him look presentable enough for the High Priestess."

The Elf was taken aback, and said something to him in Darnassian.

Oh, right.

"Khadgar, perhaps you ought to translate," Anduin grinned, fingering the wares lackadaisically. 

#

Khadgar looked more nervous about this by far than any of the looks he'd gotten on the way here, but he stepped up to the tailor anyway. "Uh...al dath astore balah t'as'e anu, shano," he said, and the tailor looked surprised–but only for a moment before she recovered and circled him like a predator studying her prey. 

"Dath _fandu_."

"I'm not _that_ short, Night Elves are just _tall_ ," Khadgar muttered, knowing she wouldn't understand, but also that she wouldn't care. And sure enough, a moment later she was dragging him off to the back room. 

Luckily, they weren't completely unused to dressing humans for events; evidently wealthy humans often sent out for 'exotic' Night Elven clothes. So she got him into an outfit rather quickly, and then dragged him back out, obviously eager for the King's approval. 

She'd put him in clothes a little tighter than he was used to, that was for sure–dark pants and a royal blue high-necked tunic that was delicately embroidered in dark blue designs along all of the trim. From the feel of the fabric, he was pretty sure it was more expensive than the rest of his wardrobe combined. He looked up at Anduin hesitantly, obviously uncomfortable in the unfamiliar clothes. "Well...fancy enough, you think?"

#

Anduin wet his lips subconsciously, looking the mage up and down. The rich fabric hung perfectly on Khadgar's frame, cut so that it swished with his movements and still clung in all the right places. 

He looked exotic...and Anduin had always had a taste for the exotic.

Handing over his purse to the tailor to sort through and take out the correct amount of currency, he turned Khadgar around gently so he could see him from all sides. With Khadgar's back to him, he leaned over his shoulder and whispered in his ear, "You look like you belong next to a king."

The shopkeeper handed his money back to him, the coins significantly lighter, but he trusted the Elf well enough. She knew his station, and the clothes were probably worth all of what he had brought with him for spending money. 

"We're not done," Anduin grinned. "So you better take it off before you ruin that and come along."

#  


Khadgar shivered at the feeling of Anduin so close to him–no, it would be a bad idea to get started like that now. He went back to change into his new familiar clothes, taking the bag of new clothing from the tailor and thanking her profusely.

"Thank you," he said to Anduin as they left the small shop. "You didn't _have_ to, you know. I'm sure they won't really care what I'm wearing when they aren't fond of me in the first place," he added with a soft laugh. 

"And where are we going now?" he asked curiously. 

#  


"They might not care, but you just let me stuff you into Night Elf finery, and why would I deprive myself of that?" Anduin said. 

They walked along the winding path. Night Elf guards stood at every corner, some wandering through the city on their giant cats.

"Here we are." They drew up to a large tree–building, where a man stood outside...along with all of his exotic animals.

"If I remember, he gives riding lessons. Care to try your luck on a nightsaber?" Anduin grinned openly now, remembering Khadgar's first time on a gryphon. "They aren't much different than riding Gnollbelly."

#

Khadgar went a little pale when he turned the corner and came face to face with the massive nightsabers. He'd grown up around arcane constructs, water familiars–in other words, creatures of magic that could still be controlled.

These were wild animals. Very different.

"You're...kidding, right?" he asked as one of the huge cats lifted its head from its paws and blinked at him sleepily. The next thing he knew, the cat was on its feet and headed right for him, and he stumbled back a couple of steps when the thing head–butted him on the chest. It was probably gentle for a creature that size, but still nearly enough to send him sprawling.

"Whoa, whoa, uh...nice cat," he stuttered out as the mountain of a cat started nuzzling him and purring loudly, much to the displeasure of the stable master.

#

Anduin, used to dealing with both large creatures and unruly humans with a steady hand, reached out and scratched the big cat behind its ears. It purred even louder and rubbed its cheek against his nails, seeking a firmer hand. 

"You're about to go into battle," Anduin said, keeping his tone light. "You never know when you might lose a mount–as I recall, you couldn't even keep track of your pony." His voice wasn't unkind though–it was decidedly fond. "I might not always be there to fetch it for you. It's good to become familiar with different styles of riding. You may have to take advantage of whatever is at hand."

He smiled and nodded at the trainer, who was eyeing them both warily. "Seeing as we're about to go into battle with an army of Night Elves, it seems like this is a good opportunity to become acquainted with what they ride. Besides," he chuckled. "Look at him. He's taken to you already."

Anduin cocked his head at Khadgar in challenge. "Well, why don't you ask him if he's available for a lesson?"

#

"I guess I did steal your gryphon to come to your rescue," Khadgar said, hesitating before reaching out and gently petting the nightsaber's head. It was purring so loud that it was practically vibrating.

He really wanted to stick to ports. He had control over ports; there wasn't that inherent unpredictability. He was obviously nervous, even after seeing the Night Elven guards riding the nightsaber mounts through the city.

But it obviously would worry Anduin if he didn't at least try to learn.

He asked the stable master in Darnassian if he had a moment for a quick lesson, and the Elf smirked even as he agreed– _always a good sign,_ Khadgar thought bitterly, swallowing hard as the Elf moved to strap the saddle onto the nightsaber's back. The cat stretched and yawned, lazily showing off an intimidating set of fangs. 

"If I die to an angry nightsaber, you get to break the news to the Queen," he said to Anduin, laughing nervously.   
  
#

"I would be joining you shortly in the afterlife," Anduin laughed back, leaping effortlessly astride his own mount. He tightened his calves and the cat sprung forward. 

Light, he'd forgotten how much he loved riding nightsabers. They offered a powerful, smooth ride, and the way they leapt through the air was akin to flying. He urged his mount forward, and she took off. He ran her around a short loop of paths once before coming back up beside Khadgar at a slower pace. 

The trainer gave him a raised eyebrow but didn't bother talking to him, instead turning to Khadgar and giving what he could only assume were instructions in Darnassian.

#

Khadgar took a deep breath, said a quick, silent prayer to Elune just to be safe, and hopped up into the saddle. The Night Elf gave him quick instructions–basically that the big cats weren't like horses, and so they didn't need much guidance by reins. Instead, they were in tune with the smallest movements of the rider–you sped up by giving anywhere from a nudge to a firm kick with your legs, and they would feel you lean if you wanted to turn, even the slightest bit.

Khadgar nodded as the Night Elf stepped aside and handed him the reins, just as Anduin returned from his lap around the paths. "You make it look easy," Khadgar complained as the nightsaber beneath him shifted restlessly.

_Well, it's now or never._

He gave the nightsaber the slightest urging to move, and the big cat eagerly sprang forward, leaving Khadgar scrambling to get a grip on the reins to stay in the saddle. It slowed after a few moments though, and Khadgar gratefully let out the breath he'd been holding. 

#

"They are easy," Anduin grinned, teasing. "They're one of the smoothest animals to ride, with how they can prowl, and the Night Elf trainers are renowned for their abilities. You can tell him, that, by the way. It would probably make him happy."

He leaned forward and scratched his nightsaber behind her ears, then coaxed her to sit still, out of the way, so he could watch how Khadgar progressed. 

Khadgar wasn't doing terribly though, not for a first time lesson. He relented with his teasing. "You're doing well. They just don't need a lot of pressure to sense what you want them to do. Horses are stubborn; these cats have almost preternaturally good senses."

#

Khadgar was beginning to realize that. The cat was probably picking up on his nervousness, too. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to relax despite being astride a massive carnivore.

"I'm used to portals," he said with a chuckle, loosening his grip on the reins a little. "Don't have to worry about a portal getting spooked. Or taking off after a wounded deer."

He was beginning to get a feel for this, though, now that the nightsaber was adjusting to him. It...wasn't half bad, he had to say. Smoother than a horse, that was for sure. "When did you learn how to ride a nightsaber, anyway?" he asked, giving Anduin a curious look.

#

"The last and only time I was in Darnassus," Anduin grinned. "I wasn't regent back then, so although I sat in many of the meetings with Llane, I still found myself with a lot of time on my hands."

 

He kept an eye on Khadgar as he slowly got the hang of riding a feline. "It's a lovely place, but there's not a lot to do if you haven't noticed. Unless you want to fish twenty-four hours a day."

#

"I suppose fishing would be more exciting, if you could turn into a bear to do it," Khadgar pointed out, though he knew that druids weren't _that_ common. Yet. It seemed more and more Night Elves these days were taking up the art of shapeshifting to defend their people; to them, it was a better trade off than magic.

He looked at Anduin with a smirk. "And I don't know about you, but I could spend _days_ studying those murals and ruins at the Temple of the Moon. Did you see the relief that showed the collapse of the Well of Eternity? Or the prayers to Elune in different dialects? Or the mural of Cenarius?"

#

Anduin groaned. "Oh, yes, what a wasted opportunity. If I could read Darnassian." 

He smiled at Khadgar. Of course the mage would just get lost in the history instead of exploring the current culture. Why interact with people, after all? 

"Want to try a faster gait? I'll race you to that building and back." He pointed at the healer's shop, not far from where they were. 

#

"I could teach you," Khadgar offered with a grin, knowing full well that Anduin wouldn't take him up on it. Anduin would take to language lessons about as enthusiastically as Khadgar took to hand to hand combat lessons, probably.

He looked to the healer's shop and back at Anduin. "Race? I've been riding one of these for a whole five minutes and you want to race?" he asked incredulously–but then that disbelief turned to mischief.

"You're on," he said, giving the nightsaber a firm kick and then leaning a bit to the right–just enough for his giant cat to cut off Anduin's path as it sprang forward and took off.

#  


"I might like you to teach me!" Anduin called after him, laughing, urging his cat forward. Excited, it bounded after Khadgar. He squeezed his legs just enough for the cat to pounce forward, falling in line with the other nightsaber. "It could come in handy with our new alliance."

He directed it sideways until his leg touched Khadgar's and the animals were in tandem. "I'm more than just a pretty face, you know. Why is it so hard to believe I would want to learn something?" 

The nightsaber moved away again, finding its own space. Anduin reached down to pat its shoulder, encouraging it into a faster sprint.

#

"It's not that hard to believe, I just–"

Khadgar cut himself off mid–sentence. His own nightsaber had pulled away a bit as well, onto a parallel path, but he felt it growl and jerk beneath him–and looked up in time to see two Night Elf children sitting in the path playing. And there was no way that nightsaber was going to be able to bring its mass to a halt in time.

" _Andu talaras_!" he snapped, and a bright blue light sprang to life over the two children. The nightsaber's massive paws hit the barrier, and it knocked it off balance; there was no way Khadgar was staying on for that ride. He was thrown into the dirt of the path and rolled to a stop, pausing to make sure nothing was broken before he started to sit up with a wince. It seemed he'd just managed to end up with a few bruises, luckily enough.

The barrier flickered and faded as the nightsaber stepped away from the children, who were now looking at Khadgar with something akin to awe–evidently, they didn't know enough to be as afraid as their elders were.

#

" _Fel,"_ Lothar swore, jumping off his mount and running to where Khadgar was gingerly getting up. He should have known better.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice heavy with guilt. "I shouldn't have pushed you. Are you all right?"

The nightsabers, trained as they were, came to wait on their haunches beside them. 

His glance passed over the young Night Elves, who were looking at Khadgar like he was Elune herself.

#  


"Yeah, I'm fine," Khadgar said, getting to his feet and brushing himself off. "All part of learning, right?"

He hesitated, and then stepped over to the two kids and knelt down. "Ash dor diel mush'al?" he asked, and the little girl reached up to touch his face.

"Ethala andu man'ar shar tur!"

"Dath etha eburi aman il'amare falla balah tu neph'o? Do'rah?" the boy chimed in, and Khadgar laughed.

"Fandu...thero'shan ano diel su dath rini," he said, relieved that the kids seemed fine. He stood up and looked sheepishly at Anduin, rubbing the back of his neck. "They wanted me to make the 'pretty light' again. Told them it's probably not a good idea."

**Translation:**

"Are you two alright?"

"Your eyes glowed like ours!"

"Can you make the pretty light over us again? Please?"

"That's...probably not such a good idea."

#  


"I can't blame them," Anduin said with a smile. "It is very pretty."

He put his hand in the small of Khadgar's back, protectively. "We should probably get these back to the trainer and get ready for the banquet." He leaned over and pecked a kiss on Khadgar's cheek, unable to stop himself. 

He reached out and pet his nightsaber, too, and it started purring at him. "I would love to take one of these back with us. I wonder how Gnollbelly would take having to share."

#

"Right," Khadgar said, smiling at the brief kiss before he turned back to his nightsaber. He was a little more comfortable getting on and settling in the saddle this time, especially as he realized that these were probably the last few peaceful moments he would have before the banquet.

He had a feeling that the banquet was going to be more than a bit stressful, given that most of the guests there were going to be wary of him at best, and downright hostile at the worst.

"I think Gnollbelly would get jealous," he pointed out. "And I'm not sure how your stablehands would feel about having to add a giant cat to the menagerie."

#

"Pity," Anduin said easily. 

It was so peaceful, in that moment. He felt a surge of pride for Khadgar hopping back on his nightsaber despite the spill he took. He jumped back on his own mount and they rode back to the Cenarian Enclave. 

He gave the cat a parting scratch on its cheek, and it shook its big head before licking him with a large, rough tongue. 

The trainer nodded to him and said a brief sentence to Khadgar before they parted. Anduin fell into step beside the mage, pushing their shoulders together as they walked. 

"Don't worry about tonight," Anduin said, noticing the pensive look on the younger man's face. "I'll be right there with you."

#

Khadgar thanked the trainer, and he stroked the fur between the nightsaber's ears one more time; he was actually impressed the animal hadn't been spooked at all by him casting while riding it. The massive cat rubbed its head on his chest until the trainer tugged it away, getting it ready for unsaddling.

Khadgar fell into step beside Anduin and sighed. "I'll manage. I just hope Tyrande being there will temper their urge to cause conflict," he said, not for the first time wondering why she had so much faith in him.

If he got the chance, he would have to ask her.

It was a short walk to their temporary homes, and Khadgar made quick work of changing into his more formal clothing. It still felt strange on him, but Anduin knew best about these things; he took one last deep breath before stepping outside to wait for the regent.

#

In his own cottage, Anduin pulled out the blue velvets and silks that comprised his formal attire. His tunic was embroidered with a lion in gold thread, the only part of his outfit he really felt comfortable with. As commander and warrior, he'd had to dress up on occasion, but it wasn't quite as posh as what was expected of a king.

Llane had always taken to this sort of garb, Anduin mused, sliding his hands over his clothes. He had made even the most extravagant of outfits look natural on him. Anduin just felt like he was wearing a costume. He wished he could wear something a little less prissy. 

It did feel nice, though, he had to admit. 

Last, he picked up the crown, fingering it and turning it so it glinted in the waning light filtering in through his window. This was the part where he felt like an imposter. Even though he knew Llane would have given his blessing, putting on the crown felt like he was betraying his king more than anything else he did. Taking Llane's place would always make him uncomfortable. But it was who he was, now, and this was what was expected of him. He placed the metal on his head, where it settled with an unfamiliar weight. 

He left the dwelling to find Khadgar, and when he did, he gave him a beaming smile. The mage really did look good in his exotic clothes. 

He proffered his arm. 

#

Khadgar was taken aback when he saw Anduin in his full King regalia for the first time; he should have expected it, he supposed, but it was one thing to imagine it and another to _see_ it.

It was like he was a different man; not in a bad way, just _different_. Like there was a different weight on his shoulders. 

He looked as much the part of King that Llana had, and Khadgar knew Llane would have been proud to see it. 

He hesitated for the barest moment when Anduin offered his arm, a split second in which he wondered if he should ask if Anduin was sure, if this was a good idea–

But then he remembered what they'd decided back on board the ship: that it didn't matter. It wasn't as if they were trying to keep things secret, anyway, and it wouldn't change whether or not the Night Elves approved.

Khadgar found that he no longer really cared if they approved. 

He took Anduin's arm with a smile. "Shall we, Your Highness?" he teased.

#

Anduin gave him a bow with a flourish before stepping back into Khadgar' s touch, and they started toward the feast. 

The great hall held tables upon tables of food and refreshments; they made their way to where the High Priestess stood, watching over all of the commotion with a slight smile to her lips. 

“Regent, Guardian," she acknowledged. "I hope you found the city to be entertaining enough."

They exchanged formal bows. 

"Please, join me," she invited. "We will introduce you to the people."

Anduin looked out across the throngs. Each race had their own way of conducting formal occasions; Stormwind's banquets were all fuss and stuffy protocol. The Night Elves seemed to be more familiar with one another in this setting, though they stood in groups instead of sitting down at the tables spread out across the room. There was a dance floor as well, and Anduin made a note to himself to take Khadgar for at least one spin around the room, Night Elves and their propriety be damned. The mage looked like a prince in his clothes, and he wanted to make sure he got to show off, at least a little. Already he caught several admiring glances thrown their way. 

He wasn't the only one, it seemed, intrigued by the exotic. 

#

Khadgar was slightly relieved; he didn't immediately feel like the Night Elves were determined to hate him for the whole evening. Sure, he caught more than a few looks of disdain or distrust, but for the most part, the banquet seemed more relaxed than their first few hours in the city had been.

And of course, he was completely oblivious to glances that might be _more_ than kind in nature.

The commander and Thelae were there, of course, and Tyrande introduced them to a few Night Elves they hadn't met yet; the captain of the Darnassian Guard, for one, and the elder of the druids, a Night Elf named Jidris Stonelance who more than dwarfed both Guardian and regent. Khadgar was fairly sure that the Elf could crush a human skull with one of his giant hands–and the druid didn't look altogether happy to meet him.

"I've heard I'll be giving a demonstration tonight on how to school a Guardian in combat," Jidris said as he shook both their hands, and then he focused in on Khadgar with a skeptical look. "My fellow druids have wagered that your magic won't last two minutes in the arena."

Khadgar didn't take the bait. "I suppose we'll see," he said with what he hoped was a confident smile, because he couldn't afford to let this bear of a man–no pun intended–shake his confidence.

#

Anduin smiled at Khadgar's even response. It made him glad to see him handling himself against the not-so-subtle baiting of the druid. 

He'd been so worried, he remembered, that this _boy-_ mage would be destroyed by the forces he was trying to become involved in. He'd seemed like he belonged in a library (which, he supposed he did) or a court somewhere, not on the battlefield, not dealing with fel, not trying to help Anduin win a war that seemed like it was already lost. 

How wrong he had been.

Thelae came over and bowed to them both before turning to Anduin. "Would you care to show our people that you can dance? You were doing well enough at Stormwind."

Anduin smiled at her and took her hand. "You may have to teach me again. I don't remember a lot of that night."

She laughed. Anduin glanced at Khadgar before following her into the open area, where revelers had taken up something akin to a waltz. 

He was good enough with court dances after so many years as the Queen's brother, but the Night Elves were something else entirely. It was one thing to do this in a room full of humans who didn't know any better, but he would rather not make a fool out of himself in front of the Elves before he'd had a chance to let them know him.

"Don't worry," Thelae grinned. "My people will not be paying attention, but perhaps your lover will?" She corrected his feet, and he picked up the move effortlessly.

Anduin had to laugh at that. "Maybe if I were reciting the lore of your people he would take notice, but I don't think he cares how I dance. He's probably trying to get some history out of the High Priestess as we speak."

He looked into her eyes, the glow so similar to Khadgar's when he practiced magic. 

They spun around the room, maintaining the semblance of him leading, though that was far from the truth.

#

Khadgar had to fight down that brief moment of jealousy, because _really, grow up_. It wasn't as if he had anything to worry about and he knew it. He smirked as he watched Thelae pull Anduin out onto the dance floor, and just thanked the gods that it hadn't been him.

Dancing wasn't something he had even the most remote experience with.

He was suddenly quite aware that he wasn't alone, and he looked away from Anduin to find the commander standing next to him, her arms crossed.

"I heard what you did on the trip over," she said, her voice pitched so the conversation was just between them, her tone giving nothing away.

"I would do it again," Khadgar said without hesitation. "I did what I had to do to save your crew."

The commander nodded. "Good. That's what I wanted to hear," she said, and he blinked in surprise as she finally looked at him. "I don't trust your magic, but I do respect that you saved my people on that ship," she added, and he felt the momentary tension leave him.

"I think we all could use a little more trust, with what's to come," he said, and they fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments. Khadgar looked back at where Anduin and Thelae were dancing, looking as if they'd been doing that dance their whole lives. 

"Aren't you worried that he'll be stolen away from you here?" she suddenly asked him with amusement, and he smiled.

"No," he said, and he found that he believed it wholeheartedly. "Like I said; we could all use a little more trust."

#

Anduin was worried for a moment when he saw the commander walk over to Khadgar; he kept his eyes on them even as Thelae spun him about the room. He needn't have worried, though, because soon enough it seemed like both the Night Elf and the Guardian had relaxed with one another. He didn't miss the look from them both thrown their way, however. 

When the dance ended, he leaned across the table from Khadgar, laughing, his face flushed. Thelae thanked him and began speaking with the commander. Then she bowed to Jidris, beside them, and led him back out to dance.

Anduin held out a hand, just as familiar strains of a Stormwind dance picked up, on the unfamiliar sound of a stringed Night Elf instrument.

"They're playing one of our native songs in our honor," he told Khadgar. "I won't be able to teach you a Darnassian dance, but this I can handle."

He nodded to where Thelae was teaching Jidris the steps effortlessly. Soon others around her were picking up the steps.

"She has a good memory," he smiled. "A diplomat's touch."

#

Khadgar looked up at Anduin as if he'd just said that he'd be dueling Gul'dan tonight instead of a druid. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat without moving to get up.

"No, uh...that's okay. I can't dance. I mean, I've never..."

Anduin had probably been to events like this a ton for Llane. Dancing and parties weren't something that Khadgar ever did, not when there were books to read and exams to study and train for. 

"You probably want to stick with one of the Elves for the dancing. I'm sure it would go a whole lot better," he added, sinking a bit further into his seat. 

#

Anduin's smile grew. "I'm not asking them, I'm asking you."

His look turned wicked. "Although," he made a quiet show of looking around the room. "The Night Elves are a powerful race, aren't they? Full of warriors. They show such prowess on the battlefield. Look at how that kitty you'll be dueling later is making out."

The truth of it was, poor Jidris was falling over his own feet with the unfamiliar human moves. 

He grabbed Khadgar's hand and gave it a not-so-gentle tug. 

"Are you really going to leave the regent of Stormwind partnerless?" He tsk'd. 

#

Khadgar was absolutely convinced that this was a horrible idea–but at the same time, nobody really seemed to be paying attention to them right now. 

And he didn't want to leave Anduin without a partner, either. It would look kind of bad if he flat out turned down the king of Stormwind.

He groaned and let Anduin pull him from his seat. "This is an awful idea, just so you know," he muttered in dread, trying to pretend like they were the only ones in the room, just like he would when trying to focus on a particularly difficult spell. It didn't work.

#

Anduin laughed. "You should be comfortable with it then. If it's a bad idea."

He placed Khadgar's hands where they should go, not caring what eyes were on them. This was his life, Khadgar was part of his life, and he was not going to worry about appearances. Stormwind and Darnassus needed their help; let them worry about winning the regent's and Guardian's approval, not the other way around.

He began guiding Khadgar around the room. "I know it doesn't come naturally," he grinned, looking down at the mage, "But just follow where my feet go. Let me lead.”

#

Khadgar snorted. "I don't think letting you lead will be a problem," he said, watching Anduin's feet for a bit to figure out the steps. 

And of course, one of the first things he did when he lifted his head was to step on Anduin's foot, but after a hasty apology, he managed to not cause injury with his attempts at dancing. 

And it actually wasn't as bad as he imagined, at least not yet–given that he was too focused on learning and on not stepping on Anduin to notice if anyone else was paying any attention to them.

#

"There," Anduin said,  "Not so bad, right?"

He looked down at Khadgar, smiling at how hard the mage was concentrating. He tried to imagine the future; would Khadgar be around to attend functions like these in Stormwind? It would make things easier on Anduin if he did–he'd never imagined not having to do his role alone. It wasn't something they'd talked about. He knew he wanted to go back to Karazhan, but would that be his permanent home?

Was he even looking for one?

He felt his forehead wrinkle and tried to shake off his thoughts. 

#  


"No disasters yet," Khadgar joked, looked back up to meet Anduin's gaze. He immediately noticed the frown there, and he tilted his head a little. "Is something wrong?"  

Of course, that was the moment Jidris chose to almost collide with them, and they both got a cool glare from the druid before Thelae was pulling him back into step.

"I have a feeling this duel is going to be...interesting," Khadgar said, already going through strategy in his mind. Druids were more agile than Orcs; he couldn't depend on brute force spells to get him through. He needed to focus on _mobility_.

#

Anduin gave him a smile that rang a little false, but it couldn't be helped; it was a bigger conversation than they had time for, and he'd rather not do it in public in case Khadgar got touchy about being asked to stay.

"Of course not," he said. "I'm happy you're–"

Jidris swung into them at that moment. Quickly assessing the situation, Anduin was sure it had been a mistake, despite the less-than-friendly look on the druid's face. Thelae smiled at him apologetically over Jidris' shoulder as she spun them away.

"Turn him into a sheep," Anduin bent and whispered into Khadgar's ear. "That seems to have worked well for you in the past. And we both know he at least won't mind being an animal."

#  


Khadgar couldn't help but laugh at that, which drew more than a few glances their way. "I don't think that would help the diplomatic relations," he said with a grin. "And I'm not even sure it would work on a druid, anyway."

He caught sight of a couple of dancers looking at them with amused curiosity, and he quickly turned his attention back to Anduin. "Either I'm doing really poorly at this dance, or they don't know that we're...together," he said, unsure for a moment what word to use. 

#

"I am positive they do not know we're 'together'," Anduin said with a smile to his voice. "Kings and Queens rarely take partners of the same sex because of the need to continue the bloodline. In our case, that isn't a problem."

He tilted his head a little. "We haven't discussed what this means yet, even with each other. I didn't think you would want a formal announcement. I'm not sure now is the time to do it, at any rate. They will have to be left wondering."

Jidris was still glowering at them. Thelae leaned over and murmured something in his ear, which seemed to turn the stare into something more thoughtful. 

#

"I'm glad for that," Khadgar said softly; he couldn't imagine having to watch Anduin marry off to someone for the sole purpose of continuing a bloodline. He would rather spend the rest of his days in Karazhan.

He raised an eyebrow at Anduin. "Are 'formal announcements' really expected? Because that seems a bit...much," he pointed out, not for the first time wishing that Anduin was still just the commander of Stormwind's army. Things would be so much less complicated.

He glanced at Jidris only for a moment–but he honestly didn't care if the druid approved. 

#

"Only if it bothered you that the whole world doesn't know," Anduin said, with a pointed look around the room. The song ended and Anduin gave Khadgar a formal bow. "I thank you for the pleasure of that dance." His tone was lightly mocking.

He followed by nudging Khadgar's shoulder. "Now to teach you the other twenty dances they expect at Stormwind's courts," he joked, half–teasing, half–testing. 

Not that he would mind if Khadgar didn't prefer to dance with him; it would be enough having him present. 

Tyrande greeted them as they returned to their places by her side. "It was a pleasure to watch a dance of your people," she said. "It is always good to be able to share in the culture of one's allies."

#

"Believe me, I could ask you endless questions just about the Temple of the Moon. Your culture is fascinating," Khadgar said, which made Tyrande smile brightly.

"I heard you visited our nightsaber trainer today," she said, giving the two of them a curious look. "Da'lar was quite impressed with how well the sabers took to you two."

Khadgar smiled and shrugged. "Only fell off once. I'll count that as a victory any day," he pointed out. "If just gotten used to using gryphons instead if portals."

#  


Anduin perked up. "Those cats are wonderful creatures. I had the opportunity to learn to ride them when I accompanied the late King Llane here."

Tyrande looked amused. "The trainer said it looked like you belonged on one. I think it surprised him to have a human take to his mounts so easily."

"If we are to do battle together, your people and mine would do well to learn the skills of each other's cultures," he commented, but he couldn't quite keep the longing off his face.

He really, really wanted a nightsaber. 

"We'd be happy to train your soldiers on our gryphons when they arrive at Stormwind."

#

Khadgar couldn't help but smile at the look on Anduin's face; he'd have to see if there was any way that he could get a nightsaber for Anduin.

Not that he had much pull with the Night Elves, but he could try.

"I will see about sending along one of our best trainers to teach your men how to handle the nightsabers," Tyrande agreed. "Though you may have trouble convincing our own warriors to use a horse as a mount. They see them as far too skittish."

"What they lack in bravado they make up for in loyalty," Khadgar pointed out. "They do follow directions well."

Though they did have a tendency to get stolen by Orcs, it seemed. 

#

Anduin raised an eyebrow at Khadgar. "And you see following directions as a virtue?" He smiled to show he was kidding. "He's not wrong. Though the nightsabers and our gryphons have sharper talons and may be better as war mounts, horses are fast and as Khadgar said, loyal. They are easier for most to learn to ride as well, and do better in large groups. Not as touchy as our birds."

Thelae and Jidris came over to them then. 

"The night is getting on," Jidris said, his unreadable, glowing eyes on Khadgar for a moment before turning to Tyrande. "My lady, when would you like our duel?"

Tyrande smiled. "At our guest's discretion. Khadgar, are you prepared? You may have as much time as you wish."

Anduin put a subtle hand on Khadgar's back. He didn't like the pressure being put on the mage, but he was curious to see how a duel between them would turn out. He knew Khadgar had it in him to defeat the druid; it was just a matter of nerves, or if he pulled his punches. 

With the looks Jidris had been giving them, he was hoping Khadgar managed to give him a trouncing. He was of half a mind to suggest dueling the druid himself, later. He didn't know how a battle against a magic–user such as Jidris would turn out, and he'd rather he learned on friendly ground rather than in the heat of battle.

#

Khadgar felt the anxiety hit him all over again–but then he felt Anduin's supportive, light touch, and he hopefully managed to hide most of it. "I'm ready," he said, knowing there was no point in putting it off–he would just get more nervous as time passed. 

"Allow me to explain, for our guests," Tyrande said, looking to Khadgar and Anduin. "We will be doing a full combat simulation duel. This means that while our priestesses will be shielding you from actual damage, you will still feel the blows as if they struck true. It is a valuable tool in assessing combat readiness. Are you still amicable to the terms?"

Khadgar really didn't like the fact that if he got hit by a bear or cat, it would actually feel like he got hit by a huge set of claws–but it made sense. "Of course," he said, trying not to let any anxiety show through as he stood. Jidris seemed to preen at his acceptance–like he was already counting on a win.

"Excellent. Lead the way to the arena then, Thelae; this should be a most interesting match for our soldiers to witness," Tyrande said, a knowing look in her eye–and when she was sure she wasn't being watched, she winked at Anduin, as if to say that she knew Khadgar was more than he seemed to her soldiers. 

#

Anduin felt a tight ball of worry clench in his stomach, but the High Priestess seemed to sense this and gave him a reassuring look. He looked askance at her, wondering if she knew something he didn't. He had faith in Khadgar, of course, but that was because he had fought beside him and knew what he could do. He wasn't sure where Tyrande's support came from–although he was glad of it nonetheless. 

He followed Khadgar and Jidris along with the Priestess, and hoped that she was correct in her claim that no actual harm would come to the combatants. 

#

Thelae led the way outside the banquet hall and a short distance away, to where a large expanse of open field was ringed with training dummies. There was plenty of room for sparring in the middle–after all, when you had combatants who could turn into bears, you needed all the space you could get. 

"I will call out for the match to start," Tyrande explained as Jidris and Khadgar stepped into the open grass. Jidris smiled toothily.

"Good luck, young mage. I have a few hundred years of experience on you, so don't feel too bad," he said, either truly confident or trying to intimidate. Khadgar had the idea it was the former. 

"Priestesses," Tyrande said to the two priestesses on either side of her, and all at once Khadgar felt the shield go up across his skin; it couldn't be seen, but he felt the warmth and reassurance of it, like pure light poured on him. 

They had quite an audience, and not just military–after all, having a mage around at all was a curiosity, and many Night Elves had probably never seen one battle. Khadgar took a deep breath and tried to focus, tried to pretend this was just normal sparring back at Dalaran.

_Remember, mobility. He's faster than you. Stronger. Be smarter,_ he thought, sending a glance to Anduin and Thelae at the edge of the field by Tyrande.

"And...begin!"

The moment Tyrande spoke, Jidris shifted in a mere second, his body changing into that of a swift nightsaber. He leapt forward with a fierce growl, and Khadgar barely managed to put up a shield to deflect him in time, stumbling a couple of steps back as he did.

Jidris was _fast_. This might be harder than he'd even dared to think. 

#

Anduin leaned forward excitedly as the duel began. He watched the transformation of the druid, enraptured by the change. It was fascinating to behold. 

He sprung at Khadgar, and his breath caught. Khadgar was able to block in time, and he grinned. Between the mage's magic and the druid's powers, this was going to be entertainment at its finest. He was going to enjoy watching Khadgar shine without fearing for his life.

#

The druid didn't give Khadgar any time to breath. He sidestepped around the hasty shield and dodged an arcane blast that Khadgar fired at him, swiping sharp claws at Khadgar's legs.

The mage said a short, one word incantation, then disappeared, the claws swiping through only air whilst Khadgar reappeared a few yards away–and at the same time, with the druid facing the other way, he said another incantation to summon two mirror images of himself. The druid turned and growled as Khadgar and both perfect images started to cast; unfortunately for Jidris, he chose poorly. He leapt at one of the mirrors, which vanished as the claws hit it, and Khadgar's arcane missiles smacked into the cat's side.

Jidris yowled in pain and fury, and then he suddenly shifted again–the cat grew in size and bulk, and in a moment, it was a massive bear barreling right at Khadgar. Khadgar dropped the second illusion, said another incantation, and just as the bear's massive front paws were about to smack into him, a block of ice encased him.

He hated this spell–being encased in ice was about as comfortable as it sounded, but it gave him a moment to think. The bear clawed gouges into the ice, but when it shattered, Khadgar was ready.

"Tu'lar ana'le!" he said, and frost shot out from him in a circle on the ground, freezing the bear's paws in place. But he'd underestimated the bear's strength; even as he started to cast again, one paw broke free, and the bear smacked it into Khadgar's side with full force.

It was enough to send the mage flying. He landed and rolled, his vision going white from the blow–it felt like every rib on his right side had been crushed. He could barely drag air into his lungs. He almost started to get up, but then he remembered the sparring he'd done with Anduin, the way Anduin had played at being more injured than he was.

So instead of getting up, Khadgar let himself go limp in the grass.

"That was too easy," a deep, growling voice said, the druid's voice distorted by the bear form. Khadgar could hear the massive footsteps coming closer–closer– _almost_ –

"Are you already done, little mage? Have you had enou–"

As soon as the druid was close enough, Khadgar shifted enough to put his hand right against the bear's muzzle–and fired off a pyroblast. The bear roared and reared back, embers falling from its fur as it clawed at its face in agony. Khadgar rolled away and to his feet, one hand flying to his side at the pain that still burned in his ribs.

#

It was mesmerizing to see all the spells Khadgar was casting; as he split himself into multiple images even Anduin himself couldn't tell which was real. 

He winced in sympathy though as Jidris pounced, knocking Khadgar through the air. He started forward without thinking, but Tyrande stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. 

For a second Anduin was afraid the druid had gained the upper hand. His hands clenched at his sides as Khadgar just...didn't get up. His breathing quickened, but the Priestess was smiling.

Then, impossibly, Khadgar struck. He felt a huge grin split his face. That was the very move he had taught the mage–a well-timed feint. 

The kid had always been an adept study.

#

Khadgar took the moment he had to do two things. First, he pressed his hand to the ground and lifted it slowly, saying a quick incantation with it, and a rune appeared on the ground below him–it was similar to a portal but with different symbols. This rune would boost the potency of any spell he cast, as long as he stayed fairly close to it.

" _Fal'falaran il'amari to andaros_ ," he said, his eyes glowing brighter as his hands shone with gold light as well as blue. Briefly, for just a moment, a golden hourglass formed in the air between his hands before the energy scattered, and he felt a rush of intense power through him–it was a complex spell, but well worth it in a fast paced battle. It would create the illusion of time passing faster, but only on a magical level–in other words, his spells would cast faster and recover more quickly.

And just in time. He formed another shield just as the bear recovered and came at him, and this time when the bear tried to side step, Khadgar was ready for him. He used his free hand to fire another set of arcane missiles, following the bear's path and knocking him back.

He knew he needed to finish this quickly. Once the time warping spell wore off, his mana would drop significantly as a result, and he would be considerably weaker.

His shield broke and the bear swiped at him again, hitting his arm and knocking him off balance. Khadgar cast an ice barrier just as the bear's teeth clamped down on his arm, the frosty shield turning what would have been an incapacitating level of pain to a bearable, though intense, level of pain. " _Hala'na furo ne tala'nar_!" Khadgar said, his voice strained from the pain, and suddenly lances of ice began smacking into the ground around them, forcing the druid to let go in order to dodge them.

While Jidris was busy dodging, Khadgar took advantage of his haste spell to cast fireball after fireball, keeping up the pressure until the druid finally made a mistake. An icy lance smacked into the shield over his fur, and then two fireballs connected one after another, pushing the druid back and knocking him to the ground. Khadgar was caught off guard, though, when in the middle of a roar the druid shifted back to Night Elf form and extended a hand, and then Khadgar felt something whip around both of his ankles, trapping him in place–vines. The druid had grown vines from the ground.

Before Khadgar could burn them away, the druid was back in bear form, and Khadgar was helpless against the swing of a massive paw. He was once again thrown, and this time he didn't have to pretend he wasn't getting up, because he definitely wasn't. He coughed and tried to make his lungs work, and the druid didn't give him time for tricks this time–it leapt, one paw pinning the mage down by the chest, just as those massive jaws went for his throat.

Khadgar took a gamble–he pressed one hand against the bear's stomach, and fired off an instant, devastating pyroblast he'd been saving power for over his last few casts. 

The effect was immediate. The bear was thrown back, shifting in mid–air back into Night Elf form even before he landed–and as Khadgar sat up, he realized his opponent was out cold. Down for the count.

#

Beside Anduin, the High Priestess clapped. The rest of the arena seemed to have been shocked into silence. 

Anduin joined her, adding, "Well fought!" His voice carried, used as he was to shouting over battlefields. It seemed to startle the Night Elves into awareness, because cheering went up a moment later. Anduin added his claps to the ruckus. 

Thelae leaned over to him. "I have never seen such a fight!" She exclaimed. "Your Guardian fought well. Jidris is a worthy ally to have, but I do not think he thought the same of you. Perhaps he will reconsider."

Anduin grimaced at her. "I wouldn't have been able to tell," he said wryly, and ran over to help Khadgar to his feet. 

Tyrande came over as well, while the other priestesses helped Jidris recover his senses. 

"An excellent duel," the High Priestess said in her clear voice. "Thank you for doing us the honor, Guardian. We will be honored to fight beside you, and to have you beside us as well."

She congratulated Jidris as well. The Elf looked slightly stunned, eyeing Khadgar with something that was not quite friendly, but wasn't hostile, either. 

Anduin touched Khadgar's elbow, still smiling. "I'm proud of you," he said, before turning to Jidris, complimenting him. 

Jidris bowed to the regent, then to Khadgar. "You have my respect," he said in his low voice to the mage.

#

Khadgar winced as Anduin helped him to his feet, but the pain was quickly fading now, the priestesses moving from a shielding spell to one meant to ease the pain.

He returned the bow to Jidris with a relieved smile. "And you have mine. It was a tough battle," he said, and Jidris turned and walked away stiffly, the very picture of a person who hadn't expected to lose.

Khadgar turned to Anduin and grinned. "I should thank you," he said, a little breathless and still chilled from the ice block. "Your own trick saved me in there."

After all, catching the druid off guard with feigning death wasn't something a mage would normally do–that was a warrior's trick. And that was probably why it worked so well, since the druid probably didn't expect tactics like that from a spellcaster.

#

"I'm glad to be of use," Anduin said, bending in close to look Khadgar in the eyes. "That was an impressive show, spell-chucker."

He had a smirk to his lips. He wanted to kiss Khadgar badly, but thought better of doing so in the middle of the arena. He wanted the Elves to be thinking of Khadgar's abilities, and nothing else.

"That was wise of the Priestess. I think you've earned the respect of her people today. They'll think of mages in a new light because of you."

#

Khadgar really wanted nothing more than to pull Anduin into a victory kiss, but he thought better of it. "I hope so. I could use getting a few less glares walking around here," he joked. Most of the Night Elves weren't looking at him with nearly as much disdain or distrust as before–but as he expected, there were a few here and there that looked like they hated him _more_ now. Probably angry that he'd actually won, let alone using magic.

"Well, we should all retire for the evening," Tyrande said. "I will have my decision for you in the morning, regent. In the meantime, you two get some rest. I'm sure you wish to return home soon, and it is a long journey back."

As they turned to go their seperate ways, Khadgar chuckled. "You know, only you and Durotan so far have figured out how to immediately shut down a mage in combat," he said softly as he walked alongside Anduin. "A mage who can't speak, can't cast. Well, mostly."

#

"One of the things I learned from being friends with Medivh," Anduin murmured. "It's a good thing most don't think of it, but I wouldn't bet your life counting on that. We should continue to spar before we go face to face with Gul'dan. I want you to have everything you possibly can in your arsenal." 

Anduin compromised with his need to touch Khadgar by putting a friendly hand on his shoulder, rubbing the muscles there with his thumb.

"And what do you mean by 'mostly'?" That was news to him.

#

Still tense from the fight, Khadgar started to relax the slightest bit at the touch. "Mostly as in exactly that. Mostly, a mage needs to speak to cast. But not always," he explained, and then he wordlessly opened his hand palm up, and with a soft glow, an arcane flower bloomed in the air above it.

"Simple spells are easier, but theoretically, any spell aside from the most complex can be cast without an incantation. It's just incredibly difficult, not all mages have the aptitude for it, and each spell has to be practiced extensively over a period of months or years to be reliable without speaking," he said, taking Anduin's free hand and holding it up, setting the flower in his palm. "I've only managed to learn short range portals without speaking the incantation, and only to very familiar locations. I've managed a shield once or twice, but most of the time that fails if I don't speak the incantation."

The shield was one he really wanted to get down without speaking. It would be invaluable if he was silenced by another caster, to have a shield in place until he could break past the spell.

#  


Anduin cupped the flower in his palm, turning it from side to side, the glow reflecting in his eyes. 

"I would feel better if you could get that to work," he said. He knew they had to stop Gul'dan, he knew they had to have the Guardian fight with them, but he was getting increasingly antsy at the thought of putting Khadgar up against the monster. "Practice on me as much as you need to," he added.

They were nearing their cottages. Anduin eyed the separate doors balefully. 

#  


Khadgar laughed. "You'd be waiting years even for a few spells. Think of it as...similar to learning how to start every swing without a sword in your hand, having to compensate and judge the weight and aim of something that doesn't even exist until it hits the target. Casting without the incantation is pulling magic from the nether and using it all at once, instead of gathering it, focusing it, and aiming over a period of even a few seconds. It's exhausting," he said. It was hard to explain to someone who didn't know magic well.

The flower burst into scattered energy as their walk slowed, and Khadgar caught Anduin's look. He tugged Anduin to a stop, and since they were alone, he pulled the other man into a firm kiss.

"Thank you," he said softly, barely breaking the kiss to say it. He didn't have to elaborate; he was thanking Anduin for everything tonight. For being there, for having faith in him, for having his back even when the alliance seemed shaky.

#

Anduin kissed him again, and it felt like relief. He tugged Khadgar into him with an arm around his waist. 

The silk felt foreign on Khadgar's body, but he enjoyed how he could feel every piece of him clearly defined beneath the fabric. "I want to thank you," he rejoined. "You've done everything asked of you and more on this trip." His mouth quirked sideways. "And thank you for the dance, Guardian."

#

Khadgar laughed softly. "Everything asked of me, plus a few spells cast on the side," he said with a grin, because those definitely hadn't been in the cards for this trip. He'd left Stormwind under orders to not use magic for the entire trip, and he hadn't expected to have to disobey that order, honestly.

Then again, he didn't expect to have a traitor on board the ship. Or running the whole ship.

Hopefully the trip home would be less eventful.

"I am not learning twenty more dances for you, though. I draw the line at say...five," he added, and he was only half joking.

#

Anduin clutched a fist to his chest. "Here I thought my love to be returned," he mock–gasped. "Five won't even get you through the first two hours of a court function, bookworm."

Secretly, he was beyond pleased the mage had even settled on that number, joking or not. It hinted that perhaps he might be around at one of those court functions in the future, if he was willing to plan dances.

Thinking of it made his expression soften. It was becoming harder to look at Khadgar's face and not think of the upcoming confrontation. If Khadgar didn't survive it, he didn't think he would–but that thought didn't make his fears any less grim. He tried to push those thoughts away and brushed a calloused thumb over the mage's cheek, skin soft under the dusting of beard. 

#

"I don't think my _mind_ would make it through the first two hours of a court function," Khadgar pointed out. He'd sat through lectures from the Kirin Tor before that made him want to jump off the side of Dalaran; he wasn't sure formal court proceedings would be much different.

He wasn't the type for talk and parties. He was the type to grab a book and learn how to get things done.

He reached up and took Anduin's hand in his, giving him a curious look as he stroked his thumb over the warrior's knuckles. "You're giving me that _look_ again."

#

"The trick is to think of other things, and drink a lot of spirits," Anduin joked. "Though having you with me would make them more bearable, I imagine."

Joking about it was as close as he could come to asking, at the moment.

"And what look would that be?" His hand tingled at Khadgar's caress.

He would not have guessed the mage would be so tender.

#

"You know I don't drink," Khadgar said, though he was still smiling as he said it. He had the feeling that if Anduin asked him to go to these intolerable court functions, he would go just because of who had asked him.

He really needed to learn how to say 'no' to Anduin on things like that. He could run off and fight demons when Anduin told him not to, but it seemed it was the little things he couldn't refuse.

"I'm still trying to figure that out," he admitted, looking back toward their cottages with a sigh. "Guess we should try and get some sleep, huh?"

#

"I could be convinced not to sleep," Anduin smiled. "But out of the two of us, you've had the longer day." 

He took Khadgar's hand in his, bowed with a flourish, and kissed his fingers. 

"I suppose I'll have to make do with an empty bed," he said. "Sweet dreams, Khadgar." He made his voice low and sultry, giving the mage a wink.

#

Khadgar rolled his eyes. "You're ridiculous," he said with a mock exasperated look. "For one, if we share, neither of us is getting much sleep. And two, when our guards get here and find one of these places empty, they just might get a _little_ worried."

Not that it wasn't tempting. It really, really was. But Khadgar was trying to be logical.

Plus, he was exhausted from the duel.

But he wasn't making do with _that_ as a goodnight kiss. He tugged Anduin forward by his shirt and kissed him deeply, finishing it off by nipping at his lower lip. "Good night, Anduin."

#

"I'm ridiculous?" Anduin laughed at him. "I was thinking about taking a boat on the canals. You're the one plotting midnight trysts. What a dirty mind, bookworm."

He kissed Khadgar back, enjoying that the younger man was holding on to his newfound bravery when it came to what he was allowed to do to Anduin. He kissed him again before he was able to pull away, then walked toward his own cabin.

The room had open windows, and the Darnassian night air was sweet, scented with a foreign musk that was far from unpleasant. The covers and bed were lush, obviously meant for people of his station, though the wood and stone gave the accommodations a more rustic feel than would indicate royal rooms in Stormwind.

He went to basin and washed up, using the chamber pot and preparing for bed.

It was odd, he reflected as he folded his finery up for travel, not being the fighter in the ring that night. Though he had no complaints with how Khadgar fought, and he had thoroughly enjoyed watching the duel, it felt wrong to him to be on the outside.

It was very similar to his feeling of being chambered by Khadgar's protective light, in fact.

But kings were not always expected to fight their own battles, were they? They rode with the troops, and yes, fought beside them, but they were set on a pedestal and expected to stay out of the main fray. They were not the champions in the ring. Others were chosen to fight for them, as Khadgar had been chosen in his stead that day.

He hated it. It was not who he was. He should be protecting Khadgar, not the other way around.

He wondered if it was some irony, some punishment, for failing to protect his king.

Climbing into bed, it was hard not to notice the empty space at his side. Khadgar had gotten him used to his warm presence in the night.

_But he should get used to this,_ he reminded himself. Khadgar had other duties and always would, just as he did. He would be called away to wars, Khadgar would take up the role of Guardian more fully as he acclimated to his role.

But what was that, really? Medivh hadn't had to travel outside of Karazhan all that much, not that he really knew what he'd gotten up to in his six years as a recluse. Moroes had made it seemed like he had holed himself up without outside contact. Why wouldn't Khadgar be able to continue his studies at the castle instead of some remote location?

_Perhaps because he wouldn't want to?_ Anduin reflected. Sometimes it felt like he was grasping a particularly slippery fish when it came to the mage.

He fell into a troubled sleep. The old nightmares of course returned far too quickly. When he awoke and found night still gleaming outside, he rose instead of fighting a futile battle for rest and began preparing for their journey. And when that was done, he went to the docks on the other side of the glowing portal to Rut'theran and loaded the ship as much as he could.

And when that was done, he found the training dummies just outside the city, and began practicing. He'd felt like his hands were tied when it came to really fighting for far too long.

The ancient, leafy protectors–large, sentient beings not unlike the golem he and Khadgar had fought–creaked around him, the ground shaking with every step. He hacked and slashed his way into a sweat, and felt a little better for it as light dawned over Darnassus.

#

Khadgar didn't have any better luck sleeping. Nightmares plagued him as well, though none he wasn't quite familiar with by now; he woke early and went for a walk through the Temple of the Moon, admiring the murals and runes and speaking with a few of the priestesses before he went to speak with Tyrande. The Elven ruler was more than happy to go along with his simple request, and he found that he couldn't wait to track down Anduin.

It took a while and directions from a few guards (one of which was none too happy to even speak with the mage), but he finally found Anduin by the training dummies, and he stood and just watched him fight for a few minutes, even though he was sure Anduin knew he was there.

Seeing Anduin in combat, whether in practice or on the battlefield, was always a sight to behold. While Khadgar's form of fighting was surely flashier, Anduin had the kind of grace that one normally only saw in the most cunning of animal fighters–the nightsabers being a good example. No wonder Anduin seemed more at ease on one of those than on a horse. Every movement was calculated, every strike of his sword sure and steady–it was no wonder he'd been the one chosen to lead Stormwind's armies, whether or not he had royal connections.

But eventually, Khadgar couldn't wait any longer. He cleared his throat to actually get Anduin's attention, and then he grinned.

"I saw the High Priestess. She's chosen to aid our cause; she's going to send a full battalion to Stormwind over the next three weeks, so we should prepare a comfortable place for her soldiers and a stable for their mounts," he said cheerfully, and then he grabbed Anduin's hand and tugged at him. "And I have a surprise for you. Come on, it's not far."

#

Anduin turned when Khadgar finally decided to stop lurking, and was surprised to see the mage looking like a cat that had swallowed the canary. He looked suspiciously at him, because it seemed to be more than just good news about their alliances with the Night Elves and the war efforts.

"That's excellent news," he said, feeling a bit of hope spark in his chest as Khadgar passed along Tyrande's message. The Elves would be powerful allies against the Horde. He hadn't doubted it after seeing the Priestess's pleased expression the night before, but it was good to have official confirmation.

He peered down at Khadgar, but the mage seemed too excited for him to protest being led away from the training field. He followed with unspoken questions, happy to feel the excitement radiating from him as they navigated the stone paths into Darnassus.

#

Khadgar happily led the way to a long, low building, and then he turned to Anduin. "Close your eyes," he said, waiting until the warrior had closed his eyes before he opened the door and let him inside, the arcane in him practically humming with happy anticipation.

Inside the building were rows upon rows of stables, and a stable hand stood waiting for them, smiling as they entered. Each stable had a nightsaber in it, waiting patiently to be called upon for training or war.

"Okay, open your eyes," Khadgar said with a bright, eager smile. "The High Priestess said you can choose two of her royal nightsabers to take back to Stormwind for your own stables. It's a gift of good will, to commemorate the new alliance."

Yeah, Khadgar was pretty proud of himself. 

#

Anduin had to do a doubletake; first at Khadgar, then at the stables. He had never seen such magnificent nightsabers.

"You did this?" He asked, his voice quiet. He gave Khadgar a stunned look and walked forward, nodding to the stable hand. "Two?" He was too shocked to speak in full sentences, it seemed.

He walked around the stable, admiring each and every beast in it. They were all fine animals, and to be able to choose was more than a gift of goodwill on Tyrande's part. He would have to think long and hard about what Stormwind could do to repay her kindness.

One of the nightsaber's rubbed its face along the door of its stable as he passed. He paused, going back to it. It was a black cat, striped, its coat shiny and almost purple. He held out a hand to it, and it pushed its great nose into his palm. Obligingly he ran his fingers through its fur, feeling it thrum as it started up a low purr.

Grinning, he got permission from the stable hand to take it out. "I'll be back," he told Khadgar, mounting its jeweled saddle.

He and his mount practically sprang outside, and once in the open air he gave it free reign. The cat took off like lightning, and he couldn't contain a whoop, Night Elf stares be damned.

This, he could fight on, he mused. This he could outrun a Frostwolf with. This he could _kill_ Frostwolves with.

He took back control, and was pleased to find not even the barest protest from the animal. It turned on a pin, and they sprinted back to the stables.

"This one," he said out of breath with exhilaration. He turned to Khadgar, wild and happy. "Tell the stable hand we'd like this one, please. And ask its name."

He had the Elf let out another, this one white with black and grey stripes, but it didn't seem to take to him like the first so he had it put back in its stable. He walked around the stables again before settling on one the stable hand said was a Frostsaber in a one-word answer to his tilted head. It was spotted and white. It purred at him before he touched it, and crouched down as if he were about to play with it. Trouble, then. Playful. It reminded him of someone else he knew.

The stable hand took that one out for him, and he was pleased the animal became all business once he was in the saddle. Not as fast as the first, but it seemed younger, and jumped higher. It would be good for leaping over Orcs and in rough terrain where speed wasn't always the best attribute. He scratched it under its ear on the way back to Khadgar and the stable hand and it rubbed itself on him happily.

"Tell him thank you," Anduin said to Khadgar, his voice rough. He bowed to the stable hand, and received one in return.

Once outside, Anduin couldn't contain himself. He grabbed Khadgar around the waist and lifted him into the air, spinning them both in a circle before bringing the mage down into a passionate kiss.

#

Khadgar made sure to get the names of the two nightsabers from the stable hand and thank him profusely before they left, and he couldn't help but laugh when Anduin actually lifted him off the ground and spun him around. He returned the kiss, smiling into it. 

"I figured you might like that," he said, feeling happier than he'd been in a long time. "The black one is named a female named Takishna, it means 'headstrong'. The white one is a male named Shar'anis, roughly translated as 'snow dancer'."

He somehow wasn't surprised at all that Anduin had picked ones that seemed like troublemakers. No doubt the Stormwind stable hands would be _thrilled_. 

But if it got Anduin to look _that_ happy, Khadgar didn't really care. 

#

Anduin just shook his head. He would have asked how Khadgar knew, but the mage was preternaturally observant–they would never have discovered the fel if he wasn't, after all.

What was more amazing though was that Khadgar had acted on it. That he'd noticed Anduin's interest in the Night Elf mounts and had gone out of his way to do this for him.

He found that he was blinking back a stinging in his eyes, and he turned his head away from Khadgar, clearing his throat.

He had never been one to question romantic interests, but he found he was beginning to wonder about Khadgar. The mage was younger than him, and rapidly becoming more powerful. He was capable enough on his own, and had never seemed to want for occupations. What was it, exactly, that drew him to an aging regent, widower and bereaved father?

Perhaps he shouldn't question that.

Or perhaps he was questioning it because he was overwhelmed at just how much it was he had to lose.

"I should take my leave of Tyrande," he said. "The boat is packed, at least with what isn't in your cabin." He cast an awestruck look back toward the stables. "And those cats."

#

"My guard said they would move my things to the ship while I was talking with Tyrande, so everything should be ready to go except your new mounts," Khadgar said, noting the look in Anduin's eyes, but deciding not to comment on it.

He could tell Anduin was touched, and that was enough. 

"Tyrande said she'd see us off at the dock, so you could say goodbye there," he added, adjusting his cloak where it had gotten disheveled by Anduin's manhandling. "Not really looking forward to another week at sea, but at least we're going home this time."

He realized after that he'd referred to Stormwind as 'home'–and at the same time, realized that he had no interest in correcting himself.

After all, where else would he call home?

#

Anduin put a hand on Khadgar's shoulder comfortingly. "No restrictions on your magic this time," he reminded him. "Anything goes wrong, there's no repercussions for you doing whatever you need to."

They made their way down to the docks, where sure enough, Tyrande was waiting to see them off. They made their pleasantries, and Anduin thanked her profusely for her gifts.

"You'll have to tell me if you have need of anything," Anduin said. "I've had my eye on your nightsabers since my first visit to Teldrassil." He clasped a hand over his heart. "I'll treat them well."

Tyrande laughed, low and musical. "You can thank your Guardian for asking. Consider it a gift of goodwill. We stand almost alone against a threat to our entire world; two cats are not much to give to a friend in these times."

Anduin gave her a bittersweet smile in return, meeting her glowing eyes with understanding. 

The stable hand from earlier came through the pink portal that separated Darnassus from Rut'theran, leading the nightsabers. They came docilely, and boarded the ship easily. Anduin shook his head in wonder. "I will need to give compliments and bribes to our stable master for a month to soothe his ego," he said with a laugh. "Our birds aren't half as well behaved, though they are loyal and fierce."

"He likely gave them soothing herbs," Tyrande explained. "So don't expect them to always be so quiet."

Anduin nodded. They took their leave of one another, and he boarded the ship, taking in the foreign land one last time with a sweep of his eyes. 

At last. One thing had gone right, he mused.

It was a start.

  



	8. Eighth Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Khadgar gets sick; Anduin catches it; Khadgar may or may not be stuck as a bird.

As interesting as the Night Elven culture was, Khadgar was eager to get home–humans weren't nearly as prejudiced against mages as the Elves were, so it was far more comfortable.

And luckily for them, the trip across the sea went well this time, with no attacks or betrayals , and no need for Khadgar to use his magic. He spent some time with Anduin getting to know the nightsabers, and much of the time getting in some much needed relaxation.

Taria was waiting for them at the docks when they arrived home, having been alerted to their arrival by the lighthouse keepers. She looked nervous as the ship docked, but obviously glad to see them, and immediately pulled Anduin into a hug when he stepped onto the dock.

"How did it go?" she asked with apprehension, looking between Anduin and Khadgar.

#

Anduin laughed, and it was a bemused sort of sound. "The negotiations can't even be called that. The High Priestess was gracious, and her people will fight beside us. We can talk more on what that will entail later."

Taria beamed. "That's wonderful! Why do I get the sense there's more?"

"There's always more," Anduin pointed out with a half-groan. "But look–" He tried tugging her toward the ship.

"Anduin..." she warned.

"The story of our ride over will have to wait until a more private setting. It wasn't a pleasant journey," he conceded. "But come!" He tugged her along as if they were children again. He met Khadgar's eyes happily as they passed him.

The Night Elves were leading his cats down from the ships. Taria stopped where she was. "What...?"

"Khadgar," he said gleefully, "Gave me a gift. Or at least, he convinced the Priestess to give me a gift. This is Takishna and Shar'anis."

He went forward, cautiously so as not to scare the nightsabers, but he needn't have worried. Takishna walked right into his hand, pushing at him with her head. Shar'anis was more wary, but allowed him to scratch his cheek vigorously.

He turned back to Taria with his arms spread wide. "Aren't they wonderful?"

Taria turned to Khadgar. "You did this for him?" She raised an eyebrow at Khadgar, then back at Anduin, before laughing, though it accompanied a shake of her head. "Well. I suppose we can't send them back, in that case."

"You like cats!" Anduin called after her merrily as she turned to leave the docks. He ran to fall in line with her as she walked.

#

Khadgar smiled. "I can only take half to blame for this one," he protested, though his part of the blame was probably far more than fifty percent. Probably more like ninety.

He raised an eyebrow at Anduin and laughed. "There's a difference between 'liking cats' and 'liking cats that can bite a human being in half', Anduin," he pointed out, though he knew Taria would come to like the majestic animals, with time. They'd grown on Khadgar, after all.

He wasn't looking forward to telling Taria about the trip over, though. Maybe Anduin would smooth over some of the worse parts of the story.

#

"Whose side are you on?" Anduin sent Khadgar an offended glare, not minding in the least. 

Taria linked arms with him. "I'm just glad to see you happy, brother," she commented. She sent a small smile Khadgar's way. "Thank you."

Anduin felt like she was talking about something larger than his new pets, but as always, she left him with nothing to grasp onto and argue about. 

"How have things been here?" Anduin forced himself to ask, concerned about her answer.

"Quiet," she said. "Either the fates are smiling on us or it is the calm before the storm. I am anxious to hear about what happened on your journey." She cast a worried look to both men. 

"No word from the Dark Irons?" He questioned, already knowing the answer.

"None," she said with a frown. 

"Varian and Adariall? How do they fare?" He asked.

"Excited to see their uncle," Taria replied, laughing. She patted his elbow. "When did you become such a worrier?" But the way she met his eyes was full of understanding. She turned to Khadgar. "How did you find Darnassus, and great Teldrassil?"

#

"I wish I had more time to study there. They had amazing historical murals and runes about the battle at the Well of Eternity," Khadgar said, and then he smiled a little bashfully. 

"And she asked me to duel her best Druid," he added, not without a hint of pride. "I actually managed to win, thanks in part to borrowing a tactic or two from Anduin."

He had the feeling that fight would have been exponentially harder had he not gotten the upper hand early on. If he fought that Druid again, the fight would almost definitely be harder, now that Jidris knew a bit more about how he fought.

#

Anduin shook his head. "He's far too modest. The only trick he borrowed he could have figured out on his own. Our Guardian fought well and it was why I think the Priestess was so willing to agree to this alliance. It was a test."

"I know our Guardian," Taria said. "I'm sure that was something to behold."

"It was," Anduin agreed wholeheartedly. 

Taria shot him another inscrutable glance. 

#

Khadgar gave Anduin an appreciative look before turning his attention back to Taria. "The good news is, she'll not only be sending soldiers, but also some of her Druids and priestesses."

Stable hands had horses ready not too far away for the rest of the trek uphill to the castle, and Khadgar pulled himself up into the saddle with more ease than he used to show; he was beginning to adjust to using mounts, even if he still saw them as a bit too unpredictable for his taste.

"They'll be arriving over the next few weeks. We'll need to prepare lodging for them, as well as space in the stables for their mounts," he explained.

Unfortunately, he knew that there would be plenty of room for them–the losses Stormwind had suffered had left their barracks and stables depressingly below capacity these days.

#

Anduin was relieved to let Khadgar explain the details to Taria. Now that he was back in Stormwind, his mind was on the war and the nearby lands. He wondered if Greymane had rethought his position, now that it was his lands being attacked. He wondered if it would be a waste of time and effort going to him, yet again, asking that he join their alliance. 

"How is Sentinel Hill holding?" He asked distractedly as they rode toward the castle.

"There have been more attacks. It will not withstand another without reinforcements," Taria said frankly, her expression sobering. "I did not want to speak of it so soon before you had a chance to settle back in."

Anduin just shook his head at her. 

#

"But no action from the north?" Khadgar asked with a frown. He'd been expecting retaliation from the Orcs to the north for what he did to their camp; the fact that they hadn't acted meant either the Dark Iron were attacking them, which was unlikely, or they had chosen not to act.

That was suspicious, to say the least.

"I don't like this," he muttered, voicing his reservations. "The way these Orcs are attacking...it doesn't make much sense."

He was beginning to wonder if Sentinel Hill was a distraction rather than an actual, focused attack. 

#

Anduin raised an eyebrow. He had a feeling that Khadgar was thinking the same thing he was–that the Orcs were toying with them. It was an odd feeling that the younger man was adapting to tactical thinking so adroitly; it was not unlike the sense of pride he felt when Callan joined the royal guard. 

And also akin to that was the feeling of worry and sorrow that came with it.

He wondered if this was how it would always be, or if he could accept that those in his life would always be the sort that would put themselves in danger.

#

They reached the gates of the castle, and Khadgar was surprised to find Dion waiting for them, along with a few other guards. Even with only his eyes visible behind the helmet, Khadgar could tell that Dion looked concerned.

"Guardian," he said, nodding in greeting. "I heard from one of your company that you were injured on the trip. Are you alright?" 

Khadgar rolled his eyes as he hopped off his horse onto the ground. "I'm fine; they healed me in Darnassus. It was nothing, really," he insisted, and Dion nodded again, though he didn't look convinced.

...and neither did Lady Taria, who was giving both Khadgar and Anduin that look that said she expected an explanation.

#

Anduin gave Dion an odd, sharp smile, caught between gratefulness that the guard was looking out for Khadgar and irritation that he was so familiar. 

"Come," Taria said in a voice that brook no arguments, and led them to her sitting room. "Sit," she said when they arrived, and sent a servant after refreshments.

Anduin raised an eyebrow at her and chose to sit on the windowsill. He felt as if he sat on the settee by Khadgar it would be impossible to not show their close relationship, and while he didn't care if the entire kingdom knew his sister was another matter. She would put pressure on him in her well-intentioned way, and scrutinize their every move. He was afraid she would scare Khadgar away; but he was also afraid she might make more of things than Khadgar and he had defined together. 

He got you nightsabers, you fool, he told himself. What are you worried about? 

And Anduin wasn't exactly sure, if he were honest with himself. Maybe it was the coming confrontation with Gul'dan, maybe it was his worries over their stations and duties, maybe it was just that now that things seemed comfortable between him and Khadgar they would break. He had no fear the mage would betray him, but it was hard to get over the betrayal of Garona and Medivh, both at the same time. It was hard to place why that unsettled him with Khadgar when the mage had done nothing but serve and protect him. 

On the other hand, he might trust Khadgar, but he didn't trust him to stay, and perhaps that was the problem. 

So in his mind, it was better for his sister to stay out of it. 

With a start, he realized Taria was frowning at him. "What?" He asked.

"Come, Lothar," she said. "Tell me of your trip. What happened on the journey there that was so terrible?"

He shook his head. "What didn't happen. Naga attacked us, and Khadgar saved the crew–and myself–by breaking his oath. Instead of being reasonable the crew locked him up." He held up a hand to stop her alarmed questions. "He held himself admirably and I would like to discuss that with you later." He glanced Khadgar's way. He deserved a commendation for what he'd done. "That wasn't the worst of it. It turned out the captain of the ship had been taken by the fel. It ended in her execution." He gave a humorless laugh. "Yes, as horrible as it sounds." 

"Taken by the fel?" She echoed, horrified. 

"We need to keep an eye on those around us. I hate to live with this much paranoia, but don't trust anyone, Taria. Be watchful. There was no sign until it was almost too late."

#

Khadgar gave Anduin an odd look at the whole 'I would like to discuss that with you later' remark, because he wasn't sure what else there was to discuss–but he let it go. It wasn't as important as the rest of the conversation that was going on.

"It seems Gul'dan was trying to infiltrate the Elven forces by swaying one of theirs to the fel, and there's no reason to think he wouldn't do the same here. In fact, it's more likely than not," he explained. He hated to alarm her, but she needed to know the full truth in order to protect herself and her children effectively. "And I hate to say it, but I have no way of knowing who is toying with the fel unless they make a mistake or expose themselves willingly. We'll need to be cautious about who we let into the castle, from here on out; Gul'dan doesn't play by our rules of war. If he thinks going after women and children would break us, he will do it."

Of course, one would hope that Garona would find a way to stop him from stooping to those levels, but she may not be fully aware of what he uses the fel to do. They couldn't depend on her when they didn't even know her full motivations.

After Medivh, Khadgar wasn't certain who outside of this room that they could trust fully at all.

And he wasn't sure why Anduin seemed to be keeping a good distance between them, but he didn't question it; it was neither the time, nor the place, and he wasn't sure he wasn't just imagining things.

#

Taria's hand went to the fabric at her throat. "I see," she said quietly. "Well, there's nothing to be done about it except to be vigilant, I suppose."

Anduin nodded and came to stand next to her, touching her arm lightly. "We'll be here with you in the city for some time, you won't have to watch alone. The Night Elf reinforcements will arrive soon, and I will need to be present for their training and acclimation to this continent." 

She gave him a quick smile. "Of course." She turned to Khadgar. "And you as well? I do hope you'll stay here at the castle."

Anduin tried not to look as though he was hanging on Khadgar's answer.

#

Khadgar nodded. "Of course. I have a lot of research to continue here to prepare for...the next confrontation with Gul'dan," he said, his shoulders slumping the tiniest bit.

He didn't want to confront Gul'dan. He didn't want to go anywhere near that portal again. He was trying not to think about the enormous pressure of two armies hinging the lives of their people on whether or not he could defeat the Orc warlock, when he honestly wasn't sure that he could.

It was enough to make him feel a little ill. Or maybe that was just from being on a ship for a week. Either way, he didn't feel well at all.

"I think I'm going to get some sleep," he said, his voice tired as he stood. "I have a lot of work to do come morning. I'm glad to see that you're well, Taria. And...good night, Anduin," he added, bowing mostly to Taria before taking his leave, sighing as he entered the hall.

He was tired. Probably from the stress, he imagined, but still.

#

Taria pinned Anduin with a frown. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek that at least turned her expression into a brief smile. 

"We'll talk tomorrow," she said.

"Good night, Taria. It's good to be back in Stormwind with you." Anduin hastened from the room, catching up with Khadgar in the hallway. 

He walked beside him for a moment, trying to put into words his sudden anxiety. The mage looked troubled, and while he shared his feelings and knew it had to be with the discussion of war, he couldn't help feeling off–kilter. "Is that the only reason you're staying here at the castle?" He finally settled on asking. "Research?"

If that was blunt, well...Anduin Lothar had never really been the epitome of subtle.

#

Khadgar arched an eyebrow at Anduin. "Well, that is a big part of it, but I wasn't sure that adding 'and I'd really prefer to keep sleeping with your brother' would go over particularly well," he teased, but it was also partially the truth. He didn't want to leave Stormwind, which wasn't a hard decision with the battle coming up; but if he'd needed to go back to Karazhan for a time, the decision would be tearing him apart.

"All joking aside," he said, stopping and grabbing onto one of Anduin's hands, since they were alone in the hall. "I would prefer to stay here. With you. For as long as I can, which...preferably would be a long time."

He sounded a little nervous, and he was. He didn't want to be presumptuous; this place was home for Anduin and Taria and their family. Khadgar was the Guardian; Guardians had never been known to stay among the royals, or among many other people at all for any length of time, for that matter.

He just hoped he sounded sincere and not just as ill as he was feeling. He would no doubt feel better after some sleep.

#

Anduin smiled at Khadgar's quip, but quickly lost it as Khadgar continued speaking. He stared at him a moment, surprised that he had seemingly read his thoughts. 

Or were they just that in tune with one another already?

Already, Anduin turned that word over in his mind. With everything they'd been through, it seemed like they'd been by one another's side a lifetime. 

"I was hoping," Anduin said, stopping a moment to compose himself. "I was hoping that that might be something you'd want." He looked at their joined hands, and rubbed a thumb over Khadgar's. "A long time," he murmured, thinking about the implications of that. 

Every time he worried, he mused, it was like Khadgar sensed it and just stepped in to assuage his fears. 

"You know," he said, aiming for casual, "You don't have to stay in separate quarters. Mustard is the only one who'd mind."

#

Khadgar let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Good. Right, then," he said, more relieved than he thought he'd be at the confirmation he'd gotten. There had been that distant fear, that voice that said that Anduin would think it too much, that Khadgar didn't need to stay here that much without good reason, but even he knew those fears were unfounded. But hearing it out loud like that was just...reassuring.

He gave Anduin an odd look. "Why would Dion mind which room I'm sleeping in?" he asked, unaware that Dion even knew of anything going on between them. 

Sure, Dion could be a little...overprotective, but wasn't that better than him being lax in his duties? Khadgar felt like he was missing something here. Maybe it was just the tiredness.

#

Anduin rolled his eyes, putting an arm around Khadgar's shoulders. "You, the most observant mage in Azeroth, don't know that your overprotective guard is practically growling at me as it is?" He gave a long, drawn-out sigh. "And he and I used to be friends."

He squeezed Khadgar to him a little more while he could. 

After a moment, he glanced down at Khadgar, remembering their conversation in Darnassus before they'd gone to their separate cabins to sleep. 

He lost himself for a moment to memory, thinking on how much he missed the quiet times with his wife, talking beside each other in bed, just as much as the passionate ones.

"You know," he said. "Just because we share a room...it's okay to just lie beside one another. Not to give you any wrong impressions," he hastened to add. "But what you assumed in Darnassus. I slept poorly without you there. If you're tired, your presence can be enough." 

#

Khadgar didn't look like he believed a single word of Anduin's first sentence. "Um...why would he need to worry about you? It's not as if you're out to hurt me," he said, and it was said as a joke, but...he found that he meant it, wholeheartedly. He knew that Anduin would never hurt him, not on purpose; sure, they'd had one fight, but that was from what was evidently a lack of communication on both sides of things, not any cruel intentions from Anduin.

No. Khadgar had known since he'd been kneeling in that rune, overtaken by the fel, Anduin's sword over his head–he'd known since the moment that sword swung to impale Gul'dan instead of himself–that Anduin would never hurt him by choice. Even when it had seemed the most logical thing to do for self-preservation, he hadn't done it.

"I slept poorly too," he admitted, trying to stifle a yawn and failing. He didn't like feeling this tired, feeling almost weak on his feet, especially when there was no real reason for it. "And speaking of...I'm not feeling well. So, if you don't mind, I'll retire to your room, and you can join me when you're ready," he offered with a tired smile.

#

Anduin relaxed at Khadgar's answer. "I have a few things I'd like to take of. I'd like to make sure the cats are properly stabled and our stable master isn't going to kill me in the morning, for one. And I'd like to check in on the barracks."

He frowned though instead of leaving, looking the mage up and down. "You seemed well enough on the boat," he mentioned. "Should we get a healer?"

#

Khadgar immediately shook his head. "No, no, of course not. I'm just tired, I'm sure it'll pass by morning," he insisted, giving Anduin a quick kiss. "Good night, then," he added before stepping away before Anduin could worry more.

He felt poorly, but it wasn't that bad. He would just sleep it off, for sure. And it certainly didn't take long for him to fall asleep, once he'd cleaned up and gotten changed; he practically collapsed into Anduin's bed, asleep nearly before his head hit the pillow. 

But by halfway through the night, he was tugging the covers up to his chin, shivering with chills even as sweat made his hair stick to his forehead. He was still trying to sleep, but his stomach was turning uncomfortably, and he kept his eyes shut and tried to will the nausea away.

#

Anduin had made his rounds, making sure everything was taken care of and prepared for the following day before returning to his rooms. He found Khadgar exactly where he said he'd be in his bed, and he watched the mage slumber as he pulled off his clothing slowly, one article at a time. He climbed in bed and nudged Khadgar to fit under one of his bare arms.

He was startled awake sometime in the night by jerky movements in his arms; when he woke enough to realize Khadgar was whimpering he shot awake. "Khadgar. Kid," he said, reverting to an older nickname in his panic. "Wake up." He put a hand to his head. He was burning up.

Cursing, he shook Khadgar a little more. "I'm going to get a healer, but I need you to wake up first," he said firmly. 

He prayed it was just a normal illness he caught while at sea. He'd had enough of magical afflictions to last him a lifetime.

#

Khadgar groaned and tried opening his eyes, but his vision swam and he quickly closed them again. "M'awake," he managed, but it wasn't exactly convincing, the words slurred with both sleep and the edge of delirium from how awful he felt. He was pretty sure he was dying, but he was awake, so there was that.

And he was cold. He tugged the blanket back up from where it has gotten pushed down by Anduin's movements; he didn't like the ridiculously opposed feelings of being cold enough to shiver but still sweating like crazy. 

He kept drifting close to the edge of sleep and getting yanked back again, either from his traitorous stomach doing some kind of flip, or by the uncomfortable temperature. Yes, he was fairly certain he was dying a slow, awkward death.

#

Anduin left him long enough to find a servant in the hallway and sent them scurrying after a healer. If there was any secrecy left to what was between them, it would be gone now. 

He pushed the hair off of Khadgar's forehead, stroking his face in gentle movements. "Easy," he said.

His own stomach was roiling though, and he couldn't keep the whisper of fel from his mind. 

The healer knocked and Anduin called him in, not bothering to correct his shirtless state first. 

"Help him," he said a little desperately. "What's wrong with him?"

#

The healer, looking the tiniest bit exasperated but doing his best to hide it, pressed a hand gently to Khadgar's forehead. He already had a good feeling what was wrong, but he would check, if nothing else to make his regent feel better.

"No need to panic," he said, silently calling upon the Light–it wouldn't help much, but it could quell some of the nausea, at least. Khadgar let out a shaky breath, and though he was unable to string together a proper 'thank you', he appreciated whatever the healer did more than words could say. 

"It's just a passing sickness, your highness," the healer continued, pulling his hand back. "His fever should be monitored, and he should drink plenty of water, but there's nothing unusual at play here. I did what I can to ease it a bit, but beyond that we can only wait."

Khadgar moaned in irritation; the last time he'd been this sick was back at Dalaran, and his experience then had been one of his most miserable–mainly because no one cared if you were sick there as long as you weren't dying. He got to not only miss his studies, but recover entirely alone, which was all sorts of lonely and uncomfortable.

#

Anduin looked between the healer and Khadgar. When was anything ever this simple? But he had no reason to doubt them. He relaxed and thanked the healer for their time.

The healer left but sent a servant back with water; Anduin climbed back into bed, but not before grabbing a book off his shelf–and wouldn't that surprise the mage, that he could read– and pulled Khadgar close to him. 

"Just the flu, then," he murmured, and began rubbing soothing circles into Khadgar's back. He opened Charge of the Dragonflights and began to read about Titans and their pantheon, determined to stay up until Khadgar fell into a better sleep. 

He had spent nights like this with Callan, he reflected. 

"Would you like me to read to you?" He asked softly. "If you haven't already read this, of course."

#

Khadgar was pretty sure the healer was wrong. He was definitely dying, and Anduin was going to be smart about this and leave him be to die in peace, because otherwise he'd probably get this and waste away and die too.

So he made a surprised noise when Anduin suddenly pulled him close, his eyes flying open to look at the warrior with unabashed confusion, too miserable to cover up anything.

"...You're staying?" he asked softly, his tone not of irritation, but of hopeful disbelief as he looked between Anduin and the book in his hands. "But...you might get sick," he added, the words a bit muddled and his eyes fever–bright. He was shivering with chills, his head ached, and all he wanted to do was sleep, but it seemed his body wasn't going to let him. 

But no one had ever stayed with him when he was sick; he had to wonder if that was usual, or another thing done differently growing up where he did.

#

Anduin looked down at him incredulously. "We've been kissing for weeks. If I get sick, it's not going to be from me sharing a bed with you spell-chucker."

He frowned at Khadgar. There was something about his tone and the expression on his face that made Anduin's heart twist. "So no," he added. "I'm not going anywhere."

He looked at the book in his hands, and wished he had the books he'd left in his home in Stormwind. He hadn't been back there though since Callan...well, since Callan. 

"Though give me a moment." He got up and sent a servant down to the library. It wasn't long before they were back, this time with fantasy tales kept for the royal children's amusement. He chose one about a friendly murloc and settled back in against Khadgar, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He began to read, stroking Khadgar's back as he did so.

#

Khadgar wanted to argue–no, he didn't want to argue, but he thought he should argue, if at least to keep Anduin from risking getting sick because of him–but he found he just didn't have the strength. He gave in far too easily compared to his usual tendencies for stubbornness, because having Anduin here was...nice. Really nice. He felt a little selfish for it, actually.

He still felt like he was dying a slow death, but at least there was some comfort in having Anduin here with him.

He wanted to point out how silly the book choice was–he was far from a kid, after all–but to be honest, he found himself focusing more on Anduin's voice than the actual words. It was low, soothing, like a spoken lullaby, and combined with the comforting touch on his back, it was enough to offset the chills and aches keeping him awake.

He fell into a feverish sleep again to the sound of Anduin's voice, cuddled up as close to the man as he could get.

#

Anduin fell asleep after Khadgar's breathing evened out, propped awkwardly against the bed frame, book open on his naked stomach.

Far too early, he awoke to the sound of knocking. "Yes?" He called, his voice a warning that it better be important.

"I heard Khadgar was sick," Taria's voice called warmly. "He wasn't in his room, do you have him hidden in there?"

Why did he feel like he was 16 and embarrassed?

"Come in," he called.

The Queen entered with a tray that had two portions of food on it. She took in the scene with a smile. "Good," she said simply. 

Anduin watched her, bemused as she tidied up. She came over and closed the book on his stomach, putting it aside with a raised eyebrow. "Is this Adariall's?"

Anduin shrugged. "What else do we have that he hasn't read and wouldn't make him want to start doing research?"

#

Khadgar woke slowly to the sound of familiar voices, but at least this time when he woke, he wasn't cold–instead, he was overly hot, as if someone had started a big cozy campfire right on the bed while he'd been asleep.

It took a few moments before he remembered why he felt so bad–oh, yeah. Sick.

"Anduin...?" he said softly, questioning, because one of those voices definitely wasn't Anduin's voice, and his head was aching too bad for him to focus on it–but at least he didn't feel like he was going to throw up anymore. 

#

"Taria brought us some food," Anduin said. "Once a mother, a mother to all." He sent his sister a smile.

"Feel better, Khadgar," Taria said. Then, to Anduin, "Send if you need anything. I'll clear your schedule as much as I can, but you should make an appearance at the court this afternoon as a public announcement of your return."

Anduin nodded. "Of course." 

She shut the door softly behind her as she left. 

"She can be a saint," Anduin said to Khadgar. "Do you think you can eat?"

#

Khadgar glanced at the food before closing his eyes again and proceeding to squirm even closer to Anduin, despite already being too hot. "Don't know," he muttered, and then he paused before opening his eyes again to look up at Anduin.

"Why'd you let me stay here?" he asked, the words coming out tired. "You'll probably get sick too."

Were this back at Dalaran, they would leave him in his room till he was better, and send in a healer if he needed it. 'Hospitality' wasn't exactly their forté. 

#

Anduin frowned. "You asked me that last night. I know you were young, but were you never sick while you lived with your family? Why would I leave you to suffer alone?"

He didn't like the implications that Khadgar was truly confused about the normal rites of caring of family. His own looked out for one another, and they always had; his parents, he and Taria and their children, even Llane tried to make sure he didn't kill himself with bad decisions or drink. He wished he'd had a chance to see what having a proper family with his wife and son would have been like, but that was an old regret that was futile to think about.

"I know you've been on your own, spell-chucker, but you were the one talking about moving into my room. Or was that just the fever talking?" He felt Khadgar's head with the back of his hand. "This isn't just about sex. Or is that what you think?"

#

Khadgar frowned. "I...don't remember much about my family. I was really young, and I don't remember ever being really sick," he admitted, fighting to sit up against the headboard of the bed. It made his head swim with dizziness, and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"In Dalaran they would send in a healer if you got bad, but that was it," he explained, opening his eyes and pushing his sweat-soaked hair back off his forehead.

He looked a bit distressed, though, that Anduin might think he was just under the assumption that this was just about the sex. "No, no, I...I don't think that, I just...I figured you wouldn't want to take the risk of it catching, when you have so much to do..."

After all, where he grew up, comfort came second to tasks in...well, pretty much everything. 

#

"I've been kissing you," Anduin pointed out again, amused. "I think that is worse than spending a day in bed with you. I took care of arrangements last night while you were sleeping. The barracks are in order; the plans for the additional stables are underway. I have a function I have to attend this afternoon, but otherwise I'll have whatever reports I need to get through brought in."

He landed a kiss on top of Khadgar's sweaty head, not particularly minding. It's not like the life of a soldier was a particularly clean one. 

"You are right that if it wasn't a time of relative quiet I couldn't do this," Anduin added softly. "But since it is, consider this training in having a proper family. Can I get you anything?"

#

Khadgar felt a wave of entirely different warmth come over him–not from being sick, but from being loved, from having Anduin here despite the situation. He moved to cuddle up against the warrior again, closing his eyes against another wave of dizziness.

"I don't need anything," he said, leaning his head against Anduin's shoulder, wanting nothing more than to curl up and sleep for a few more days. That, and to cool off, because he felt like he was lying in the heat of the summer right under the sun. 

"Thank you, Anduin," he added, and though his voice was quiet, it was sincere. 

#

They dozed away the morning, Anduin only getting up to relieve himself and eat the food Taria brought. 

That afternoon's audience went only as well as could be expected when Anduin made the announcement to the city of the success of the mission abroad and the incoming reinforcements from Darnassus. The people obviously had mixed feelings about letting outsiders into the city–they were left wary and afraid from the attacks and from news of the interlopers from Draenor. Orcs were leaving their marks on more than just the land and lives, they were also instilling fear and hatred in the humans of anyone so different from themselves. It was clear a lot of work would need to be done to counter that gut reaction.

There were Night Elves living already in the city, he knew, but they were few and far between; perhaps, Anduin wondered, they could consider setting up a cultural fair, or something else to raise awareness and goodwill before the arrival of their allies. It would do them no good to greet them with hostility. 

Maybe he’d give a demonstration on the nightsabers? He would have to think on it.

Feeling tired after his activities, Taria excused him from dinner. He brought soup from the kitchens and went to check on Khadgar. 

#

Khadgar slept most of the time that Anduin was away, but by the time he returned, Khadgar had long tired of doing nothing. Still fighting his fever, he'd still managed to get himself nose deep in a book, with his sketches scattered on the bed in front of him.

He needed to figure out what was going on with the Orc attacks, sick or not. He marked the locations of recent attacks on a map, comparing them to the sketches of various runes that he'd copied from his books.

He was still flushed with illness and had to fight off a wave of nausea when he lifted his head too fast at the sound of Anduin entering the room.

"There's no pattern," he said, exasperated as he tapped his quill against the map. "It doesn't match any of the runes I've found. It doesn't match their normal pattern of attacks non-related to the fel sigils. I can't figure it out."

#

"Really?" Anduin asked upon entering the room, rolling his eyes.

He didn't bother reprimanding the mage though; it was a lost cause. He set the tray down beside Khadgar and picked up his own bowl. He settled in on the bed next to him and began eating.

"Show me," he said. 

#

Khadgar made space for Anduin, passing him a couple of sketches and pointing to the map. "At first I thought that he might be attempting to create this rune, here. But in that case, the continued attacks on Sentinel Hill and the expansion into Kalimdor wouldn't make sense," he explained, pausing to cough into his sleeve.

"T–Then I thought, maybe he's preparing for dual attacks on Darnassus and Stormwind, to try and keep us from being able to combine our efforts effectively. But," he paused, pointing his quill at three locations on the map. "The guard told me they've had attacks reported here, in the Hillsbrad Foothills, near Menethil Harbor in the Wetlands, and all the way to the southern end of Stranglethorn Vale. It makes no sense for him to be spreading his forces so thin, not after we closed the portal before their full army could come through."

He stopped for a moment to press his hand to his forehead, fighting back a dizzy spell. "I can't figure it out," he complained in a near moan.

#

"Perhaps they're just trying to divide us," Anduin suggested. "Pull our forces apart. Draw us away. Maybe it's not so much about where they are attacking, but where they aren't." He frowned heavily at Khadgar's research.

He finished his soup and put the dish aside, picking up Khadgar's in its place. "Either way, I think you've done enough for now, bookworm. Eat. You need fluids."

Shoving the bowl into Khadgar's hands, he tried to make sense of all the papers scattered across the bed, rubbing circles into Khadgar's shoulder blades absentmindedly. 

"We'll have some work to do here at home," he murmured. "We need a strong, combined front to counter whatever this turns out to be. I made the announcement of the Darnassians joining our cause while you were here not resting. Our people are too afraid of anything they don't know; I'm thinking a festival might be the answer." He glanced at Khadgar out of the corner of his eye. "Perhaps when you feel better, we can talk about whether you have some parlour tricks up your sleeve. Medivh used to shoot off fireworks; it could be a way to get them used to you, as well."

#

Khadgar reluctantly took the bowl from Anduin and started sipping carefully at it, taking it slow in case his stomach decided to rebel. "But where aren't they attacking, is the question. They seem to be attacking everywhere, but not in great numbers. If it weren't Gul'dan behind it, I'd say it looked downright unorganized. But I know him better than that. There's always a reason," he said, leaning back into Anduin's touch. 

He would have to think more on that later. His mind seemed to have reached its limit for the moment.

"It's a good idea. A festival might do some good in raising spirits," he pointed out, knowing that the people of Stormwind were all crestfallen from the loss of their leader and the constant attacks. He smiled then, just barely. "It's been a long time since I've used my magic for fun. We did things like fireworks and conjuring for practice, but not so much at the higher levels...I think I would actually have to practice to make sure I don't accidentally feed too much arcane into it."

He was eating at a bit of a quicker pace now, since it felt like he would be able to keep it down–and he hadn't realized how hungry and thirsty he'd gotten, being distracted by sickness and work.

#

"Yes, please don't blow up my city, spell-chucker," Anduin said with a chuckle. 

"It almost makes me wonder," he mused with one last look at the pages, "If Gul'dan doesn't have complete control over the Horde. What if the Orcs have branched out, and are under two leaders?" He shook his head. "No way of knowing. You're right; it's far more likely there's just something we aren't seeing."

He frowned. "We can't let it go on, in any case. We'll need most of our forces and energy to counter Gul'dan, but we also can't leave our garrisons and people open to attack. We need to protect them. We'll have to figure out the most pressing threats and push back against those; I may have to go on tour in the coming days."

#

"Oh, give me a little credit. I wouldn't blow up the city, I might just...rain flaming cinders down on it," Khadgar said with a smirk. Fireworks weren't hard to make, for sure, but with the influx of power plus the multitude of powerful spells he'd had to practice lately, he would just need to make sure he didn't overdo it.

He gave Anduin a frown. "And leave Taria and I to welcome the Elven forces? I don't think they like me that much yet, Anduin. They may feel slighted if you aren't here to settle them in," he pointed out. The commander was tolerant of him, sure, and Thelae would hopefully be coming along to make things go smoother–but the majority of the Elves were still wary of him at best. And some seemed downright offended that he'd defeated their Druid.

#

"I'd be back before they arrived," Anduin said, not believing it as the words left his mouth. "Two weeks, isn't that what they said?"

The truth was, sitting idly on a throne and handling small grievances and the details of the festivities he himself just suggested they plan sounded like a slow torture to him.

He kicked at the covers, sending a couple pieces of parchment flying. "I'm not meant for this," he grumbled. 

#

Khadgar gave him a look–those were important parchments, thank you very much–and closed the book next to him. "Hey," he said, setting his bowl of soup aside; he couldn't stomach anymore right now. "Do you really think Taria would have allowed me to hand you Llane's sword if she thought you wouldn't be able to do this?"

He remembered that moment. It hadn't been planned; but when the crowd started chanting for Lothar, and Khadgar realized that they needed someone who knew the battlefield to lead them in the coming years, it had felt right. Taria was a diplomat, and while she was an amazing woman, she wasn't the type to command armies into battle. And her children were far too young.

So he'd done the only thing he felt could save the spirits of Stormwind's people at that moment; he helped give them a leader he knew they would respect and follow the way they had followed Llane. It was symbolic, more than anything; they'd all but elected him simply by sheer numbers. But the sword...that was the symbol of the King of Stormwind. And now, the leader of this fresh alliance.

"Do you think I would have handed you that sword, if I didn't have faith in you?" he rephrased the question with a smile. "You may not have been meant for this, but you're more than capable, and that's what matters. Your people look up to you. When they look to you, I see the same admiration in their eyes that they had when they looked to King Llane."

#

"That isn't the problem, " Anduin groaned, dragging a hand over his face. Although it was, perhaps, part of it. He hit his head lightly on the headboard. 

Suddenly realizing he was being insensitive, he hugged Khadgar to him with a small laugh. "Or, I do worry about that too. So I thank you. I wouldn't have been able to do this at all without you. Taking up Llane's sword." 

"It's just sending others to battle without me. Having you duel in Darnassus. It's having to stay on the sidelines as a figurehead. I just..."

He couldn't put into words how frustrated he was.

#

"Being a king isn't about being on the sidelines all the time. Think about it; when was Llane by your side on the battlefield?" Khadgar asked, raising an eyebrow. "He wasn't there all the time, or even most of the time, because that would be ridiculous. He was there when it mattered. You bolster your troops, make sure they have the resources they need to do what they need to do, and then you have faith in them."

After all, if the king was out at every battlefield he could get to, if something truly awful happened, there may be a delay in getting troops and resources to the site of a new conflict. He understood why Anduin felt the way he did–Anduin wanted to do things, not tell others to do them–and he knew that finding that balance would be one of the most difficult things about Anduin's new position.

"It's about knowing when your presence is needed, and knowing when to trust in your troops to know what needs to be done," he added, moving in close to Anduin again and resting his head against him. He was tired, but he was also tired of sleeping.

#

"Hm," Anduin said. "Of course." 

It didn't really settle his feelings of unrest, though. Maybe this was how Khadgar felt when he couldn't study and improve his grasp of the arcane.

But being a soldier wasn't about the love of fighting; it was only when his people were being murdered and he was forced to stay out of it that got to him.

He closed his eyes even though he wasn't tired, his thoughts repeating futiley around ideas of duty and feelings of impotence and the constant threat.

#

Khadgar frowned, feeling helpless; his words hadn't seemed to help much. He wanted to reassure Anduin with a kiss, but that was pretty well out of the question right now.

"Well, whatever you decide to do, I stand beside you. You know that," he said, drawing light patterns on the back of one of Anduin's hands with one finger. If Anduin wanted to make the rounds of their cities, Khadgar and Taria would make do with the Elves if he didn't get back in time.

He was the Guardian, after all. He couldn't hide behind a king forever.

Soon, he wouldn't be able to hide behind anyone or anything at all. Not when he faced Gul'dan. 

#

The glow on his eyelids made him blink; he stared, enraptured with the patterns Khadgar was tracing on his hands. 

Khadgar's words registered next, and his gaze flickered briefly to his face in grateful wonder before going back to watching the tiny display of magic. 

"You're amazing," he said with a small laugh. "Have I told you that?"

#

Khadgar snorted. "I don't feel amazing right now," he muttered; he still felt like he was sitting too close to a fire, and his head was aching from it. His body was telling him to sleep, but his mind was still stuck on the dilemma of the Orcs, the fact that he couldn't figure out their movements.

"What if I fail?" he asked softly, staring down at the arcane trails he was leaving across Anduin's skin. "What if all of this goes right, and I'm the one the fails? What if I can't defeat him?"

People were going to die to make sure he got the opportunity to kill Gul'dan at all, that was no question. But if people died and then he failed...he wasn't sure if he could live with that.

#

"You will do your best, Khadgar," Anduin said. "That's all anyone can ask of you. You will try your hardest and that will be enough."

Anduin tore his eyes away from the glowing lines to look at Khadgar's fretful face. "I will be with you every step of the way. I have faith in you."

He pressed a kiss to Khadgar's warm forehead. "You're still burning up," he muttered unhappily. "Rest now. You've done enough thinking for tonight."

One by one he gathered the papers up and stacked them neatly on the side table, cleaning up the covers and plumping the pillows for them both. It felt amazing to finally be back in his own bed. It felt almost unfamiliar with how much time had passed since he'd spent a night in it.

He settled in and said, "Do what you want with the blankets to be comfortable, I'll manage." He reached out a thumb and rubbed Khadgar's arm soothingly, attempting to get him to settle down as well.

#

Khadgar wanted to argue, but he couldn't really find the energy to do so. Instead he waited patiently on Anduin, and the second he was back in the bed, Khadgar cuddled up to him, the blankets mostly kicked off him. He said a soft 'thank you', probably the thousandth one and certainly not the last one that he would ever say to this man–and it didn't take long at all for him to fall back into sleep.

And sometime during the night, his fever finally broke. When he opened his eyes his stomach didn't twist with nausea, and he had only the slightest headache–though when he tried to sit up, he found that the dizziness and weakness hadn't entirely left him. He closed his eyes for a few moments and waited for it to pass, and then slipped out of the bed without waking Anduin.

He desperately needed to bathe. One of the perks of being a mage; with one wave of his hand he could conjure up hot water to fill the basin, and he took his time, making sure that he was completely clean before he dried off and pulled on some clean clothes. He felt leagues better than yesterday, that was for sure, but he wasn't about to go pushing his luck; he got some water and settled back into bed, sitting up against the headboard next to Lothar, sipping at the water as he read through one of his books.

#

Anduin woke to the whisper of turning pages; early morning light was coming through the window, telling him it wasn't a time he preferred to be awake on his days at the castle. He threw an arm over his face.

"You smell nice," he groaned despite himself. "Why are you awake?"

#

Khadgar raised an eyebrow, giving Anduin an amused look. "Why shouldn't I be?" he asked, that amusement coming through in his words. He'd already known that Anduin wasn't fond of mornings, but it seemed to be more...pronounced, now that he was back in his own bed.

It was kind of adorable, but he wasn't about to say that. He had the feeling he would get smacked with a pillow if he did.

"I'm studying the effects of temporal disruption on living structures in order to create a spatial anomaly to accelerate the recovery of mana with the combined effect of reversal of minor lacerations or contusions, if you really want to know. I've got the mana effect down, but temporal disruption of actual physical, moving, living structures is...unpredictable at best, and disfiguring at worst," he explained, frowning down at the page. "I'm no healer, after all. Magic isn't really meant for this, but it's theoretically possible, and could be incredibly useful."

#

Anduin reached up and felt blindly around on Khadgar's face until he found his mouth, curling his fingers over it.

"That was a rhetorical question, spell-chucker," he said into his pillow.

Light, was Khadgar casting frost-spells in their room? He felt like he was encased in a block of ice. He cracked an eye to make sure that wasn't fact, then dragged all the blankets up around his ears. 

He pretended, very hard, that he hadn't just shivered anyway. "I'm glad you're feeling better," he called, and meant it.

#

Khadgar laughed; somehow he had the feeling he'd get that reaction, after he let himself get carried away like that. He pushed Anduin's hand away from his face, feeling himself warm at the fond nickname.

Any other mage would have been offended; it wasn't a term often used as endearment. But Khadgar knew exactly how Anduin meant it.

"Me too," he said, reaching over and running his fingers fondly through Anduin's hair, just in time to feel him shiver. "Cold?"

#

"Why would you ask that?" Anduin responded. After a moment, he added nonchalantly, "Casting spells in here?"

To distract him, but also because his mind finally processed Khadgar's words, he said, "Anything you can do to recover mana better and heal is a good thing."

He burrowed deeper into the bed.

It didn't seem to help.

#

"Only spell I cast was to make some hot water," Khadgar pointed out; he wasn't going to jump right back into using complex magic right away. Being sick was not only taxing on the body, but on the arcane in a mage as well. He could exhaust himself too easily if he didn't take it easy on the spells for a while.

He grinned at Anduin. "Thought you weren't listening to that," he teased, but it quickly turned into a frown as Anduin burrowed deeper into the covers. Khadgar wasn't running a fever anymore, but even so, it wasn't cold in here right now.

"Don't tell me you're getting sick," he said in an almost pleading tone, because he could already feel the guilt nipping at him, even as he moved his hand to try and feel Anduin's forehead.

#

Anduin dodged Khadgar's fingers by turning his face away. He heard the guilty note in Khadgar's voice with a twinge of conscience. 

"Of course not," he scoffed. "It's just too early and you're keeping me up."

If he was curt enough, maybe Khadgar would get the hint and leave him to die in peace. He'd rather the mage was mad at him than feeling bad for something he couldn't help.

"Stop worrying," he tacked on gruffly. 

#

Unfortunately for Anduin, Khadgar knew a bluff when he saw it. "I've gotten you up this early before and you didn't complain. Granted, I did get you up for other reasons, but still–"

He trailed off as he actually managed to get his hand on Anduin's forehead, and he sighed. "I told you that you'd catch what I had," he muttered, trying not to let the guilt get to him, and only half succeeding. He bookmarked his page and set his book on the side table, swinging his legs off the bed. "Stay put, okay? I'll be back in a minute."

He didn't let Anduin object or complain. He ignored any lingering effects of his own illness, padding out into the hall barefoot and telling the guard to keep a healer on standby in case it was needed. Anduin didn't seem that bad yet, but that could change.

He made two quick stops; one for more water for their room, and another to the library to grab a couple books to check for any spells that might be of use. On the way back, though, he turned a corner and almost ran right into Taria. 

"Sorry! I, uh...Lady Taria, do you have a minute?" he asked, seizing the opportunity.

#

"Khadgar!" Taria exclaimed in surprise, then frowned. "Should you really be out of bed?" She looked him over, and shook her head. "It takes a couple days to recover from an illness like that. I'll walk you back to your room. I'm shocked Lothar let you up. He can be something of a mother hen, though please keep that between you and me."

#

Khadgar looked a bit sheepish. "Well, I feel a lot better, and I didn't really get his permission to leave, so..." he said with a half–shrug. He didn't feel one hundred percent, by any means, but he didn't feel like he was about to burn up or throw up. So that was a plus. 

"Actually, I'm up because...well, I think Anduin has whatever I had," he said, the guilt obvious in both his expression and his words. "And I'm not entirely sure what to do, because in Dalaran they just sort of...left you in your room and waited it out, and evidently that's not what you're supposed to do, but aside from lots of water I'm not really sure. I mean, I'm sure there are spells for this, and I was going to look..."

He realized that he was rambling, and he shifted the weight of the books in his arms uncomfortably. "...help?" he added with a weak laugh, because really, she would know what to do. And he really needed to sit down or something soon, because he found that he wasn't quite recovered enough for all of this walking around yet.

#

Taria shook her head at him again. "Light have mercy on you if Lothar is sick, he gets insufferable."

She took half the books from him. "And if you're not well, you certainly can't be expected to look after him. But," she paused and smiled at him. "It means a lot to me that you want to. I feel better knowing he has you to look out for him, Khadgar. If you want to know how to help just imagine what you would want while you are sick. I'll have tea and porridge sent. Try not to let him drink, some old wife told him it was a cure once and it's only ever made things worse."

She led them back to Anduin's room. "Are you sure you'd rather be here than in your own bed? I can have you both looked after well enough if you'd like to rest."

She held up the books in her hands, peering at them. "Also, you'd be the richest mage in Azeroth if you find a magical cure for the flu."

#

"Really, I'll be fine. It's not as if I haven't put up with his bad moods before. If I couldn't handle it, I wouldn't have lasted a week around him," Khadgar pointed out with a smile. It was true, though; both of them had their bad moods, and both of them seemed to tolerate the other well enough through them. 

Besides, Anduin had just spent almost two days watching over him while he was sick; Khadgar owed it to him to try and do the same.

He looked down at the books with a shrug. "I'm not really expecting a miracle or anything, just...maybe something to ease the symptoms. Far better mages than me have obsessed with healing through magic; if there were a way, I'm sure they would have found it by now," he said, taking the books back now that they were back at Anduin's room.

He didn't bother to mention that this was pretty much 'his own bed' now, if they were being technical about it. It just happened to be Anduin's, too.

#

Taria's smile brightened at him. "Yes, you do seem to be able to handle him well, don't you?" The expression in her eyes spoke of gratitude. She touched his arm gently. "I know I can't talk you out of your research, but please, do not push yourself too hard. I would like to see you well." Her face darkened slightly. "And you are right; this is not the Kirin Tor. We don't expect you to suffer alone, Khadgar. If you have need of anything, send for me."

She glanced at the door and shook her head, but didn't speak her thoughts. "I'll go get food sent to you. Please rest."

#

"I'll try," Khadgar said; he wasn't about to promise her that he would, because he knew he probably wouldn't be getting as much rest as she would have liked.

He stepped into the room and set the water on the bedside table nearest Anduin, and then he sat down cross-legged near the end of the bed and dumped the pile of books near Anduin's feet. "Brought you some water. Taria will be by with food, if you can manage it," he said, grabbing one of the books and starting to thumb through it. "I'm sure I can find something in these that can help..."

#

"Did you being a priest with you? One who specializes in the shadow arts so they can kill me?" Anduin asked, his voice muffled by the bedclothes. "Because that's the only thing that would help. And why did you have to tell Taria?"

He sat up a moment later, ignoring the shivers running through his body. He looked dismayed at the books.

"That's what I thought it sounded like you were doing," Anduin said. "Fine. You do that, I'll go start in on the paperwork waiting for me." He got out of bed, and doggedly started looking for where he'd put his clothes.

#

Khadgar shot a dark look at Anduin, and he was up in a second, the book laying forgotten as he pulled the man back to the bed–which was easier said than done, when Anduin was determined and had an advantage of muscle mass on him. Especially since he already wasn't back at full strength himself.

"What are you doing? Lay down. You're sick," he pointed out, because honestly, he hadn't tried to get up and run around when he was ill. 

...He'd just grabbed some books from his bag and worked in bed. Totally different.

"I have a healer on call–an actual healer, not a shadow priest–in case they're needed. And I only told Taria because I nearly ran into her in the hall, and she wanted to know why I was up," he explained, pushing Anduin down to sit on the bed. "You need to rest. Just like you told me, remember?"

#

"Did you though? I remember parchments and tactical planning," Anduin said darkly. "And you can't convince me you're better. I know my limits." The 'unlike you' was implied. "You should come to bed, and stop worrying about me."

He let Khadgar pull him down so that he sat on the edge of the bed. A tremor ran through him, and he rested his hand on his stomach.

Okay, so maybe he was a little ill.

He was going to ask that his work be brought in, but he gave that a second thought as he fought off nausea. He lay back down, looking up at the ceiling balefully. 

#

Well. It seemed Anduin got grumpier than anticipated when he was sick. Khadgar tried not to take it personally, knowing that Anduin didn't mean it as harshly as it came out, but he couldn't help the flicker of hurt that showed on his face.

"I can't help but worry," he admitted, relieved that Anduin was at least laying down again now. He acquiesced to one request, at least; he sat down on the bed next to Anduin, resisting the urge to pick up his book again. Instead, he reached over and pushed Anduin's hair back from his face, giving him a sympathetic look.

"Let me call in the healer. He got rid of some of the nausea for me, at least," he offered when he felt how feverish Anduin was, and he stood up and headed for the door to alert the guard.

#

Anduin waited obediently until the healer came. Khadgar was right; it did help. In fact, it helped enough that he felt like two days playing nursemaid was probably two days too long to ignore everything that had building up on his to-do list.

"Khadgar," he asked. His voice was authentically pathetic–no matter what he told himself, he did feel like he was infected with fel itself. "Can you go to the library and get me a book–you'll have better luck than the guards. There's one I'm thinking of–royal blue with "An Exhaustive but Dubious Retrospective" on the spine."

It was a compendium on military strategy unique to Stormwind Castle's library; he had enough conscience to at least give Khadgar something to read after tricking him. Since the mage was becoming so interested in war planning, he thought, it would probably give him ideas.

It was also tucked into the far reaches of the shelves, on the top shelf–though it was unlikely that anyone else would touch it, Anduin liked to make sure it was handy when he needed it.

He curled up on his side. "And have a guard send a bucket," he added. 

#

Well, Khadgar wasn't going to deny him one little request like that. "Of course," he said, leaning over and kissing Anduin on the forehead. "Try to rest a bit?" he added, and then he headed for the library, passing along the request to the guard along the way.

He would just have to make sure not to run into Taria along the away, considering he wasn't technically supposed to be out of bed, either.

He made it without running into her, though, and started to look; it seemed to take forever, even though he knew this library pretty well by now. He grinned triumphantly as he pulled the book from its home among the row, and then made it to the bottom of the ladder before he swayed dangerously on his feet. 

He pressed a hand to the shelves and closed his eyes, steadying himself as he waited for the dizziness to pass. He was almost done; he could rest as soon as he got back.

#

Anduin breathed a sigh of relief as Khadgar left; there was no way he was staying in bed all day. It was one thing to take care of Khadgar; he could justify that. Babying himself was out of the question. 

Groaning, he forced himself up and got dressed quickly, taking only the water with him. He leaned on the wall as he went.

The hall was blessedly empty until he rounded the corner to his study and all but ran into the ever–present Mustard. He straightened immediately, fixing him with his best commander's stare.

"Khadgar's in the library," he said. "You know, he won't listen to me? I think he's too sick to be out of bed, can you see what you can do?"

Dion practically preened, straightening his back. "Yes, sir." He saluted and walked brusquely away.

Anduin relaxed, closing his eyes to fight back a wave of nausea. He was almost there, though.

Ultimately he made it, grabbed the stack of reports, and got out of the castle without incident. He wanted to review the war plans at the barracks and debrief his men.

What ended up happening, of course, was he found one of the cots and lay down to read. At least the chills had turned to a burning fever, so the cool of the stone facilities felt perfect.

#

It took Khadgar about fifteen minutes of explaining and arguing to get Dion to leave him be. He insisted that he was fine, that he was well enough to be up and around, and he didn't bother to hide his irritation at the fact that Anduin had sent him away only to have a chance to leave himself.

Even Dion couldn't convince him not to go and find Anduin. Luckily, though, the man was nothing but predictable right now, and a short search and an intimidating question to a couple of soldiers led him straight to the barracks.

"Honestly, Anduin?" he said as he walked in, and it was clear from his tone that he was Not Happy. But at the same time, he knew he wasn't Anduin's mother–nor his sister–and if Anduin wanted to pull stupid stunts like this, well.

Khadgar had just wanted to know if he was okay. The worry and guilt still clung to him like a cloak.

"If you want to spend your fever down here trying and failing to get work done because you're sick, then just say so," he said, his voice low but tense. No one else was in the room, thankfully, so he could speak his mind. "I do know a spell that could cool you off, and I'm sure Taria's really not going to be happy, but you're obviously not worried about that. Send for me if you get tired of 'working' and actually want to spend time properly recovering," he added, turning to leave.

Anduin was an adult. If he wanted to make bad decisions, Khadgar would let him, then be there to catch him if, or when, he fell.

#

"How did you manage to get past Dion? And are you forever going to be breaking into my barracks?" Anduin moaned once he got over his shock. And Light, but he hadn't seen Khadgar that angry with him in a while. "Why are you even here? You're supposed to be resting. That was the whole point." 

It was true, he felt terrible, but now he felt even worse that Khadgar was apparently just as stubbornly stupid. He'd thought if he removed himself, Khadgar would be able to concentrate on his own recovery. He'd given him the opportunity to study in the castle in peace–he knew better than to expect he'd rest–and instead he'd spent his energy tracking Anduin down. 

Anduin closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He opened them again to survey the work he'd gotten done. It wasn't nearly enough, but it was better than nothing. "Did you at least find the book?" He asked. "That was supposed to be for you. You were spending your time on military strategy when you were supposed to be resting; I thought you might find something in there to give you an idea."

Khadgar often saw things others might miss; without a knowledge of magic, he wasn't sure he could find what the mage was looking for. "I thought I'd be wasting my time looking for patterns without your knowledge of the arcane," he admitted. "We either need to send scouts, which could be a suicide mission, or practice containment until our strike against Gul'dan himself."

He shuddered–it seemed as if the pendulum of his fever was swinging back the other way.

Khadgar seemed genuinely upset, but the rosy tinge to his cheeks still spoke of sickness and not anger. Anduin was caught between touched and annoyed that he'd come looking for him. He hated Khadgar being mad at him though. That was going to be a problem, he reflected. It had been a while since he'd had anyone to truly answer to. "If I agree to spend time properly recovering," he bargained, "Then you do it with me."

#

Khadgar stopped before he reached the door, taking a deep breath to quell both the irritation and the weak feeling that was getting worse the longer he stayed on his feet. "I told Dion that if he wanted me back in that room, he was going to have to carry me there. Turns out your guards still aren't brave enough to manhandle an angry mage," he said, turning back around to face Anduin. "And I'm here because I was worried that you're pushing yourself too hard out of some stubborn need to keep commanding a damn army while you're sick."

He took the few steps back to the side of the bed, feeling some of the initial anger draining away. Some of it. "I found the book. I had Dion take it back to our room," he muttered, though he hesitated the briefest second after, realizing that he'd definitely said 'our room' to Dion, and the guard hadn't questioned it. Well, that said something. "But I'd prefer to have your decades of experience looking it over with me, instead of me trying to stumble through textbook tactics when we both know that what the Orcs are doing is far from textbook."

He actually smiled, then, just the hint of one. "If you ever tell anyone I said this, I'll deny it, but most often real world experience trumps anything in books when there are lives on the line," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed to try and quell the dizziness tugging at him. 

"Also, I didn't break into your barracks," Khadgar pointed out sheepishly, looking down at the floor. "The guard outside the door did try to stop me from coming in. And, uh...he'll probably be in here in about fifteen seconds, when he's no longer a goat."

#

"Try to make some friends on the guard," Anduin laughed and sat up, then uncharacteristically forced himself underneath Khadgar's arm. "Light, I am freezing."

He lay down a moment later with his head in Khadgar's lap, hugging the mage's leg's for warmth. "We can look at it together," he conceded. 

Then Khadgar's words caught up to him. "Wait, fifteen seconds?" He shot straight up, then doubled over, groaning. 

The door burst open and a very huffy guard marched in. He glanced up to see him pointing a trembling finger at Khadgar. 

Anduin held up a hand and put his head back between his knees. "He's sorry. He's very sorry. I'll talk to him."

"But he–" the guard began.

"Here–" Anduin fumbled around in his pants and found a gold piece, holding it out. "He won't do it again."

The guard took it. "Thank you, sir." He sounded confused, but content enough.

Anduin heard him leave. "Please don't do that again. Unless I'm in the barracks. Or something similar. We don't want all the guard in Stormwind plotting your demise. I don't have time to keep up with preventing that." 

#

"I did warn him," Khadgar muttered, though he did feel a bit bad. "I told him that I was coming in here, one way or another. He told me to go ahead and try it. So, I did."

Khadgar really hadn't been in the mood to play games with some random guard, so...who could blame him for taking the man at his word?

He reached over and rubbed Anduin's back gently. "I can port you back up to the room if you don't feel like walking," he offered, because while he didn't feel great, he was well enough to do a portal that short of distance. That, and they should probably get back there fairly quickly, before Dion or Taria came looking for them.

They would probably both be in trouble if Taria knew they were out wandering the barracks like this. And Khadgar wouldn't put it past Dion to tell her.

#

"At your own risk," Anduin muttered. 

His stomach didn't love porting at the best of times. This would be a gamble on Khadgar's part. He didn't love the idea of either of them having to walk back through Stormwind–he had actually intended to spend the night there in the barracks. Which, in retrospect, probably wouldn't have been successful between his sister and Khadgar anyway. 

Taria had been less watchful in the past–both before the death of her own husband, and before she'd taken notice of how Anduin was dealing with his own losses. 

He sat up, and examined Khadgar's face thoughtfully. Never would he have guessed this young mage would have changed his life so drastically. He no longer spent all his time in the barracks, and it had been a while–the ship ride excluded–since he'd found himself wandering to a pub to drown his sorrows. And now here the mage was, half-sick himself, trying to take care of Anduin despite that. 

The last time he'd felt so very...not alone...had been before Callan was born. He still wasn't sure how he felt about it, not in its entirety. There was gratefulness, there was love...but there was also a good deal of fear, still, after everything.

He reached over and patted Khadgar's leg, nodding his permission for the port. 

#

"I can handle one port," Khadgar said with a smile, though he wasn't going to do it the hard way. He stood up and got one of the burnt shards of wood from the fire pit near the door, and he drew a few simple ruins around where Anduin sat. He knelt down and allowed the arcane energy to gather, the runes lighting up in a bright circle as the energy flowed through him.

"Ful'aman, tan'are," he said softly, and then he released the energy. It snapped them through the portal, and Anduin appeared neatly on the bed, just like he had been in the barracks–Khadgar, meanwhile, stumbled and nearly fell, bracing both hands on the edge of the bed as he fought back the dizziness.

#

Surprisingly, Anduin didn't vomit on Khadgar, or anywhere else. He supposed it didn't feel much different if you were already sick. 

He caught Khadgar by the elbows and pulled him up into bed with him. "Easy," he murmured, then kissed his forehead.

"I'm sorry for worrying you," he finally made himself say. He meant it, of course; but he didn't like admitting he'd done anything wrong just by trying to take care of his responsibilities. 

Just at that moment, a very insistent pounding came on the door, followed by a whirlwind of Taria. She stopped dead in the doorway though, looking at them in shock. 

She turned around. "Dion?" She questioned. 

Dion came into view around her. He did an about–face, as if seeing Anduin and Khadgar hugging personally offended him. "He's a mage, my lady."

Taria narrowed her eyes at them both. "You're resting," she sounded doubtful rather than questioning. 

Anduin gave her a shit-eating grin. 

"Why are you dressed?" She demanded.

"I was cold?" Anduin tried. 

#

Their timing was almost perfect, if you judged by Taria's arrival. Khadgar was reluctant to pull away from the hug, because he felt unsteady enough as is, but he did so for the sake of answering Taria.

"Told you I could handle him," he said to her with a smile–though he gave Anduin a sidelong look that clearly said that Anduin owed him for covering for him to the Queen, of all people.

Dion turned to fix them both with a glare. "Next time I will carry you back to your room," he muttered, though Khadgar knew it was an empty threat. 

#

Anduin responded to that insinuation of an earlier discussion between Khadgar and his sister by groaning and rolling over, away from the door, and burying his face in the pillows. 

"I'm in bed!" He said. "Please, spare my dignity, Taria."

"Too late," she said primly, with far too much laughter in her voice. "It seems he can handle you as well." That he was sure was directed at Khadgar. "Seeing as you're both back in bed where you belong. Anduin, the guards at the barracks are on alert to tell me if they see you set foot out of the castle for the next day. I'll have food sent to you both." Her voice turned pleading and quiet, which was worse, so much worse. "Please, please rest. You're both too important. To the Alliance, but to me."

The use of his first name didn't escape him. She only used that now when she was truly worried for him. 

He took a pillow and put it over his head. 

#

Khadgar grinned, but Dion gave him a look. "Don't look so smug. They've been told the same about you," he pointed out, and Khadgar groaned. 

"I'm better now!"

"You're pale as a ghost. Stay put and rest, Queen's orders," he said, turning to follow Lady Taria out and pulling the door shut behind him.

Khadgar sighed and laid back on the pillows next to Anduin. "Looks like we're both under house arrest," he muttered, glancing over at the pillow that hid Anduin from view. "I blame you," he added, though his tone was teasing. 

#

Anduin hit him weakly with the pillow. "What did I say this morning? I seem to remember asking why you were awake."

He rolled over on his back. It did actually feel good to be back in bed. After a moment he realized the chills were coming back and rolled into Khadgar, pulling the blankets over him, clothes and all, though he did take a minute to kick off his boots first. He huddled underneath the mage's arm for warmth.

"You could have convinced me to stay in bed if you hadn't gone on about the war and duty," he accused.

He wasn't sure if it was one hundred percent true, but since it was a little true he felt justified in guilting Khadgar over not resting himself.

There wasn't any heat to his words, though. He'd begun feeling more tired since porting, and Khadgar was comfortable. He let his eyes close.

#

"I was reading a tome about using the arcane to create temporal anomalies, not writing a war treatise," Khadgar said with an amused huff, though he tugged Anduin in close. He was beginning to adjust to the grumpiness and learning to just let it pass without comment. 

"But for your sake, I'll make sure the spell I'm studying when you wake up isn't one for war," he added with the hint of a smile. He kissed the top of Anduin's head, and then closed his eyes himself; after all that running around and spell casting, he was exhausted.

It didn't take him long to fall asleep, even with Anduin burning up and pressed against him. 

#

Anduin woke to a quiet knock. He felt like he was only slightly warm, as compared to burning up or feeling like he was under ice, and the nausea had gone away entirely. They had slept the rest of the day away; outside the window there was only starlight.

"Who is it?" He called. 

"Mother said to come in no matter what you said, I'm sorry, Uncle Anduin." 

Anduin cursed, but he couldn't get up in time before his small niece and nephew pushed open the door, carrying trays. 

"Adariall, Varian," he said resignedly. At least he and Khadgar were clothed. 

Adariall beamed at him. "We brought you dinner," she said brightly.

"And sweets," Varian added. "Mother doesn't know about that part. But I know when I'm sick it's what I want to eat."

Anduin grinned despite himself, propping his head up on an elbow and hoping desperately he blocked Khadgar from view.

"There's a tray for you, and a tray for Khadgar," Adariall said. "Does he live here, now?"

The children adored the mage, albeit with a shy, far-away sort of regard. He'd been asked more than once by the children about their new Guardian. He supposed it was because Khadgar–and he thought this with extreme discomfort–was closer to their age than anyone else at the castle, now that Callan was no longer there. 

But that question alone was why he was going to kill his sister. He knew Khadgar had said he'd wanted to stay with him for a while, but whether or not that would happen remained to be seen. 

"I will give this," he pointed at the sweet on his tray, avoiding her question, "To which one of you has the guts to tickle him awake."

Adariall shook her head adamantly, blushing; Varian shrugged and in a very kingly way ran to the other side of the bed and promptly tickled Khadgar's stomach. He too turned red though and danced backward.

#

Khadgar had obviously been spending too much time ready to jump into a fight at a moment's notice; he jerked awake with a start and his eyes glowed for the briefest of moments before he realized just who was standing by the bed.

"Prince Varian?" he said, trying to hide the inner panic over the fact that he'd just about arcane blasted the child prince in the face. It wasn't as if he was used to getting tickled awake–matter of fact, he was pretty sure that was a first. He glanced at Anduin in confusion, then caught sight of the trays of food, and his mind finally put two and two together.

Luckily, Varian looked more fascinated than scared at the brief show of arcane. 

"Mother had us bring you food," Varian said proudly, and Khadgar chuckled and dropped back on the pillow. At least he wasn't dizzy anymore.

"Thank you both," he said, giving the prince a grateful smile. "Now you'd better go, before you catch ill. Tell your mother thank you."

#

Anduin dutifully held out the sweet from his plate. "Your payment, my liege," he said, mirth clear in his voice. 

"Thank you sir!" Varian chirped out just as mockingly. He grabbed it. 

"I hope you feel better, Uncle Anduin," Adariall added seriously.

The two young royals ran from the room, laughing. 

Anduin looked back at Khadgar, grinning. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it would cause you to panic. They've been fascinated with you since you came to Stormwind."

#

Khadgar let out a breath of relief. "It's okay, it's not your fault. I'm just...not used to it, I suppose," he said, though it was obvious that Anduin was the exception. He was used to waking up by Anduin now, which was...comforting in some ways, and nerve wracking in others.

Because he wasn't sure if he would ever adjust well to sleeping alone again, if he had to. Anduin's presence seemed to keep most of the nightmares at bay.

"Why are they fascinated with me?" he asked as he sat up, and then he frowned as he realized he already knew the answer to that. "Oh...I suppose Medivh wasn't around them much, was he? And judging by my welcome to the city, I'm guessing you don't often have mages as visitors," he added with an amused look toward Anduin.

It would be amusing one day to be asked how they met, only to have to explain that Anduin threw him down on a table and demanded to know what a 'spell-chucker' was doing in his city. Granted, Khadgar had just broken into the royal barracks, and then proceeded to mouth off to the commander of Stormwind's forces, but still.

#

"That," Anduin agreed. Then his voice became quieter. "And they miss Callan. You're a little older than he was, but close in age."

Losing their father and their cousin had been hard on the children, and he realized suddenly that he should have recognized that sooner. He'd been so caught up in his own grief...

...but they still had their mother, of course. It wasn't his job to be everything to them, no matter how much he wished he could be. If he were honest with himself, though, he'd been avoiding his niece and nephew. Taria had probably been grateful for that, seeing how he handled everything with recklessness and spirits for far too long. He loved them, but it was hard to deal with others' grief when you were already bereaved, and harder still to look on the faces of living children, even beloved ones, when yours was dead.

He slapped the bed to break the moment before Khadgar could talk to him about it. "It's good to feel hungry again," he said, sitting up to look over the food tray. "After I eat some of this I need to go talk to Taria."

#

Khadgar almost said something about it, but thought better of it. Not right now, when they both needed to focus on the tasks ahead, and not what was behind them. Khadgar reached for a tray and pulled it close, eagerly starting to eat–he didn't realize how hungry he was until he smelled the food.

"I have a spell I'd like to work on anyway," he said between bites, and then he held up a hand to cut Anduin off before he could protest. "It's nothing that complex or dangerous, and I think it could give us a way to scout out a couple of trouble spots without putting any of your men in danger. Or anyone, for that matter."

He knew Medivh could perform the spell–he'd never witnessed it himself, but he'd heard rumors, and he'd found references in the books at Karazhan. He was pretty sure that he could do the spell with a little practice, and it would be invaluable if he could do it reliably. 

#

Anduin looked him over thoroughly, but Khadgar seemed earnest, and he'd lost the bright-eyed flush of illness so he didn't nag him. 

"That would be great," Anduin said, not voicing the if you can get it to work. He trusted Khadgar, even if he was still learning. He had faith he would get it right if he set his mind to it, and a spell like that would be downright necessary if they had it on hand. 

He finished eating and leaned over to kiss Khadgar on the corner of his mouth between bites of food. He tousled his hair with a quick grin. "Stay out of trouble," he suggested before leaving the room.

Taria was getting ready for bed when Anduin found her, and he watched her brush her hair for a moment, frowning, before making his presence known.

"What are you doing?" He demanded.

Taria gave him a smile. "What do you mean?" She didn't seem surprised he was there in the least. 

"Sending Adariall and Varian to my quarters. You knew they would see Khadgar."

"And is that a problem?" She wrapped her hair up to sleep in and turned to face him. Her eyes were serious. 

He crossed his arms. "You shouldn't set expectations for them," he said. 

Taria smiled again. "Ah." She crossed the room and took his hands, forcing him to extend them away from his chest. She placed a hand over his heart. "He adores you, you know."

A crease appeared between Anduin's eyes. "That doesn't mean–"

She patted his shirt. "Don't let your fear of the future tarnish your present."

Anduin huffed out a sigh. She was being impossible. "I'd like to take the children on a hunt tomorrow," he changed topics.

Taria blinked at him, then her face turned sunny. "I'll ask them about it in the morning. They miss you, Anduin."

He kissed her cheek, and bid her goodnight. 

#

Khadgar finished eating and went first to the library, brushing up on what he knew about the spell; then, once he was confident he had it, he retrieved Atiesh and went to the courtyard. He would need open air to do this. Luckily, Dion had gone about his other duties whilst Khadgar was in the library, so he didn't have any distractions.

He held the staff in front of him with one hand, the end of it barely touching the ground, and he closed his eyes–and when he opened them, they were glowing that signature bright blue of arcane.

"Shalla'drassil," he said, and instead of just his hands lighting up, his whole body did, along with Atiesh. "Atiesh kal'adore, shar'thus aman'ni!"

He felt the same pull he might feel when using a long range portal, that kind of tug at the energy inside him, except then it got so intense it was almost painful–but only for a moment. The world around him went white, then black, and when he came to seconds later, he was lying on the ground.

No, that wasn't right. He wasn't lying on the ground, he was just closer to it. And he could see a whole lot better.

And when he looked down, he saw a black beak, and grey clawed talons.

It had worked. He was a raven.

He cawed triumphantly and experimentally spread his wings. Atiesh gave him the knowledge of how to use them, he knew that, but before he could, a guard came in. "Guardian...?"

Khadgar figured that it would take a constant feed of energy to maintain the shapeshift, but he found that Atiesh was maintaining it all on its own–which presented a problem. He'd figured to get out of the form, he could just stop the flow of energy into the spell, but...there was no flow of energy to stop. 

Which meant he had no clue how to change back to tell the guard who he was.

The guard had noticed the raven standing in the courtyard grass, and he kicked at Khadgar with one booted foot. "Shoo, cursed thing," he snapped, and Khadgar squawked indignantly and took to the air. He landed on one of the trees, fighting down panic as he considered his options.

He needed to look at the books again. But seeing as how he was currently a bird, that wasn't exactly possible. He couldn't get in the library or turn the pages. He would need help.

...oh, Anduin would never let him hear the end of this. He almost preferred life as a bird.

Resigning himself to the ridicule, he flew around the side of the castle to their shared bedroom, where luckily the window was open to let in the cool night air. He almost didn't want to go inside; through a bird's eyes, he could see every detail for a mile around. He could count the people in the Trade District market, he could see what kind of flowers the florist was selling in her booth outside the Dwarven District–and not to mention the feeling of flight was incredible. It was amazing. And it would be perfect for scouting Orc camps unseen.

He landed on the windowsill, and spotted Anduin working on some papers on the desk; he hopped from the windowsill onto the desk and cawed, knowing of no other way to get Anduin's attention.

#

Anduin nearly fell off his chair, and as it was, he knocked it over and it went clattering across the floor. White-faced, he stood in the center of the room, closing his eyes and opening them to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. 

There had really been only one other shapeshifter he had known who took the form of a raven.

Impossible.

They had killed Medivh. He, and Khadgar. 

Yet, impossibly, there was a raven looking at him with expectancy on his desk. No true bird would do that.

So was this a haunting? Or did Medivh not truly die? Was he here for revenge, or...?

But this bird wasn't of the fel; it didn't glow green, and its eyes were aware and decidedly not hostile. If anything, he would have called them panicked, but that made no sense. 

He swallowed around a suddenly constricted throat, and looked around frantically for his sword. "Medivh?" He got out, in a cautious, small voice, feeling ridiculous for even thinking it.

Or it could just be a raven, he derided himself. Just a bird. Not his dead friend. Not a demon. Not a ghost. Those thoughts didn't really help when he was faced with the image of a thousand memories. The bird looked too intelligent by half. 

His sword, of course, was on the desk, so he'd have to go near the raven to get it.

"Shoo," he tried a second time.

#

Khadgar was taken aback when Anduin called him Medivh–then he realized it. Medivh must have done this spell around Llane and Anduin; Anduin knew that Medivh could become a raven. He also had to know that Medivh was the only one who could. Until now, that is.

Khadgar suddenly felt bad for bringing those memories back.

But not bad enough to quell the anger at being shoo'd for the second time that evening. He needed Anduin's help. He looked around for anything that might tip Anduin off, and decided to go for the most obvious–he hopped from the desk to the bed, where the book Anduin asked him to fetch last night still lay at the foot of the bed. He grabbed the edge of it with one talon and tugged, cawing at Anduin again, willing him to understand.

Come on, Anduin. What animal would come right into your room and go straight for a book? You know me. Think!

#

Anduin went and snatched up his sword; he felt better with the weight of it in his hand. However, the bird was now on his bed, and trying to destroy...

He narrowed his eyes at it. 

Medivh. Guardian.

Anduin put his sword down. The bird was hopping all over the book he'd told Khadgar to fetch earlier. 

'Practice a spell,' Khadgar had told him before disappearing for hours. 'A way to scout', he'd said. 

"On second thought, you can stay," Anduin told the raven. "I know two children who would love to have a new pet."

His lips twitched, just barely. 

On some other level, though, the question of why wasn't Khadgar turning back clamored for attention.

#

Oh very funny, Khadgar thought with a huff. If a bird could look exasperated, that was probably how he looked right now. Though he did feel better when it didn't appear as though Anduin was about to skewer him.

Wouldn't that be awkward; the Guardian of Azeroth, stuck as a bird and skewered on the end of the sword of the King of Stormwind. He was sure he'd read some cautionary tales about spells gone wrong that went something like that.

He flapped his wings a couple times and then hopped down to the floor, marching over to Anduin like a bird on a mission. He tugged at Anduin's pant leg, then hopped over to the door, looking between Anduin and the door with an expectant look. It wouldn't take long for Anduin to figure out that he couldn't change back; he just needed to get the warrior to follow him.

Anduin was going to love this; he'd get to work with a bird in the library for a while. Khadgar could only hope someone walked in on it, so he wasn't the only one suffering from embarrassment over this whole debacle.

#

Anduin stared down at the raven, and reflected that his life was really far from normal. Here he was, regent of Stormwind, and his lover was now shorter than his knee and covered in feathers. 

"I'm not following a bird down the hallway," he said flatly, and held out his arm. "Hop on up here if you actually are Khadgar. I feel like I'm going crazy," he added in a mutter.

The parallels between Medivh in raven–form and Khadgar in raven–form still unsettled him, but Medivh had always had a calculating, mischievous bent to the way he'd acted as a bird, and Khadgar was all anxious hops and ruffled indignation. It was easy to see the differences now that he knew what he was looking at. 

However, the usefulness of the transformation was not lost on him. Khadgar could now accompany him anywhere without being detected; he could be his back-up for a multitude of situations where discretion was needed. He could pass as wildlife or a pet, and there was a myriad of uses for such a skill. 

However, he would like Khadgar the man back at some point, and from the way Khadgar was tugging at him with his little sharp beak that wasn't happening without some assistance.

"I'm guessing," he told the bird, mirth shining in his eyes, "You really don't know how to get yourself out of this, do you?"

#

Khadgar fluttered up and landed on Anduin's arm, his feathers fluffing as he did, like he was getting comfortable. Well, it was better than hopping around on the ground and hoping he didn't get kicked.

Of course, when Anduin asked if he didn't know how to get himself out of this form, he did just about everything other than look at Anduin. He fluffed up, he used his beak to tug an errant feather back into place, anything other than look at the humor plain to see on Anduin's face.

This was embarrassing. He'd assumed that getting out of the transformation would be the easy part; turned out when you were working with a legendary weapon like Atiesh, nothing was quite that simple.

His tutors back at Dalaran would have left him in bird form with no books and no help until he figured it out on his own, just to make a point about casting spells with insufficient preparation; luckily, Anduin was not that cruel, and they didn't exactly have the time for him to lounge around as a raven for days on end.

Less talking, more library, he thought pointedly, grabbing onto the fabric of Anduin's sleeve and tugging insistently in the direction of the door.

#

Anduin grinned, relieved that the raven had confirmed he wasn't just talking to some errant avian. He tapped Khadgar's beak, much like he did with Gnollbelly, and then stroked his head between his eyes. 

"You're quite cute as a bird," Anduin scratched his cheek as they walked, following Khadgar's insistent tugs. It didn't take him long to figure out they were going to the library, but he couldn't help go down a few wrong hallways anyway just to see Khadgar become flustered. "You're lucky I'd miss having you in my bed. I figure that you'd learn to communicate so that wouldn't be an issue, but," he took one of Khadgar's taloned feet and shook it gently. "This are a little small and a little sharp."

They were both lucky that it was nighttime and the hallways were deserted; there was no reason to guard the library wing at night. Otherwise, Anduin could have pictured the gossip mill in Stormwind and the picture of the insane King those whispers would paint. The regent of Stormwind, wandering around the castle at midnight talking to a raven. That was sure to go over well with the people. 

They got to the library and finally Anduin took pity on him. He scratched Khadgar's feathered cheek. "You'll figure this out. Just show me what books you need."

#

Khadgar couldn't help but close his eyes for a moment at the gentle stroking to his head; that actually felt quite good. He quickly shook it off, though, because really, now was not the time to be getting comfortable in this form. He was definitely going to fix this. Tonight.

But he did dig his sharp talons tighter into cloth and skin every time Anduin made a wrong turn.

Once they got to the library–and after he leaned in to the scratching that Anduin provided, because really, it felt good, okay?–he took off and landed on the edge of a bookshelf. He awkwardly bird-walked to the first book and tugged it out a little from the rest, then marched down to the next book and did the same. Then he flew to the table where he'd been working earlier, using his beak to tug a third book out from under a stack of papers.

It had to be in one of these three; he just had to figure out where to start. Maybe if Anduin knew what to look for, this might be easier.

He huffed and his feathers fluffed in annoyance; he couldn't exactly tell him, now could he? And he didn't think his talons were anywhere near dexterous enough to draw it out with a quill and ink.

#

Anduin pinched the bridge of his nose momentarily. That was really a lot of books that his raven had just pulled out from the shelves. He walked over and took them down one by one, then opened the one Khadgar had pulled out from under a small mess. 

"You do know I have no idea what I'm looking for," Anduin pointed out, opening up the other books as well and spreading the across the desk. That way, at least, Khadgar could flip the pages easily enough. He frowned at the books a moment. "I'll look for mentions of shapeshifting," he decided. "Tap me twice if that's wrong."

He thought a moment more. "And druids, perhaps? Tap three times if that one's wrong." He took the first book and put his feet up on the table, leaning back in his chair. He had a feeling this was going to be one extremely long, boring night.

"Somehow I don't think this is what Taria had in mind when she ordered a full day's rest," he said, grinning openly as he watched Khadgar walk around with his little, jerky movements. 

#

Khadgar gave Anduin a look and tapped three times, almost angrily. He was not a druid, thank you very much. In fact, if a druid heard him insinuate of a mage using druidic magic, Anduin would be on the very wrong side of diplomacy all of a sudden. He wasn't actually a raven, just a clever arcane illusion of one. Very convincing, though; only the most talented of mages would ever be able to spot the fake.

He would have sighed, if he could; this was going to be a long night. He walked over to the most promising of the three books and started turning pages and reading, which...well, with a beak, turning the page without tearing it was an endeavor in and of itself. 

Then, a few minutes into the search, he heard footsteps. He jumped off the table to hide on one of the chairs, because the last thing Anduin needed was people questioning his sanity for hanging out in the library with a raven. The door opened and Dion stepped in, looking very concerned.

"Sir Lothar," he said, his voice anxious. "The Guardian has...vanished. Another guard said they saw him in the courtyard, but he's not there, here, or either of the bedrooms. Have you seen him?"

#

"Ow," Anduin scowled. "I'm trying, spell-chucker. You want to stay a bird?"

The door opened, revealing Dion with perfectly valid questions, and Khadgar disappeared behind the furniture in a less–than–graceful scramble.

Anduin glared at the chair Khadgar was cowering on, but sighed. "He went to see Lady Taria," Anduin fibbed, knowing at least the guard wouldn't bother her until morning. "Don't worry, he'll be underfoot again soon enough."

Dion frowned underneath his helmet. "I didn't see anyone go down that way..."

"Don't worry," Anduin repeated firmly. "You were checking the bedrooms, right? That's a lot of time for one squirrelly mage to go where he wants."

That still didn't do it. Dion burst out, "Are you and the Guardian fighting?"

Anduin resisted the urge to hit his head on the desk. "No, Mustard. He's just stubborn and hard to keep track of. Now shoo."

The guard obviously didn't believe him, but that couldn't be helped. After a suspicious look around the room, Dion left.

"Thank you for that," Anduin muttered to Khadgar. "Really."

#

Khadgar struggled to hop back up onto the table, and he cocked his head at Anduin. Would you rather try to explain to him why you're talking to a bird? He thought, because people didn't think of mages as shapeshifters. That was a druidic thing. Dion may have thought Anduin was losing his mind.

Khadgar suddenly saw something on the page Anduin was on, and he had no hesitation to hop right onto the book to have a look, whether or not Anduin was in the way. He stared at the page for a few long moments, then hopped off it and dragged his own book over next to it, fighting to turn back a few pages.

What ensued was probably a pretty comedic effect, seeing a raven hop back and forth between two books, occasionally stopping to turn a page with his beak, trying to be gentle enough not to tear the pages. I think I've got it, he tried to say, but of course it came out as more of a 'caw', and he instead resorted to tugging at Anduin's sleeve once again, this time in the direction of the door.

Outside. I'm not doing experimental spells around this many books, he wanted to say, pressing his head against Anduin's shoulder. Move.

#

Anduin laughed outright. He didn't even try to cover it up. Reaching a hand up, he scratched Khadgar's cheek again. He couldn't help it; he liked animals, he always had.

"Okay, okay," he murmured. "Silly bird. I get it. That was fast."

He took Khadgar's direction, guessing he meant to go outside, but took a winding, roundabout route to get there, doing his best to avoid critical, wondering eyes. 

He pet Khadgar's head again, a little regretfully. "You make a nicer bird than Medivh," he said wryly. 

#

Khadgar gave Anduin a questioning look–but it seemed that was a conversation for another time. When he wasn't, you know, a bird.

Right now, he could enjoy the attention he was getting until they got outside. He would even forgive Anduin for laughing at him, just this once. After all, the petting did feel nicer than anticipated. He hadn't expected much of anything other than the flying out of being a bird, but it seemed there were quite a few other advantages–such as getting to see this playful side of Anduin.

Once outside, he nudged Anduin with his head in thanks, and then hopped down onto the grass. He thought about what he'd read, focused on it–it wasn't so much about turning off a flow of energy as it was tapping back into it. The transformations to and from bird form were the bulk of the energy, and while Atiesh could hold the transformation steady, it couldn't trigger the transformation on its own.

He found that thread of energy winding around himself and the weapon, all the while thinking that it shouldn't be this easy–he'd transformed, stayed in form this long, he should be tired–

He silently said the incantation, there was a soft glow, and he was suddenly standing in the grass, back in human form, clutching Atiesh in one hand. And that–that was when the exhaustion hit. Evidently, Atiesh had been keeping it at bay as part of the transformation process.

But now it hit him like a runaway kodo. His eyes dulled over, and he swayed. "So that's how it works," he said, the words slurred–

–and then he promptly passed out.

#

He really should have expected that, Anduin reflected as Khadgar crumpled to the ground. Even with his finely tuned reflexes he couldn't quite catch him in time.

It was becoming something of a habit with the mage, the passing out. 

Still, he was relieved to see Khadgar back in his own body. His raven form was endearing, but it was worrying not knowing when and if the younger man would be human again.

"Here we go," Anduin said, tucking the staff under his arm and picking up Khadgar. Since it was either very early or very late, depending on how you looked at it, they were once again lucky to have a deserted trip back to their room.

Anduin managed to get Khadgar undressed and tucked in before following suit. He wasn't even going to try to pick his work up again–he'd reached his limit at last. Sleep claimed him thankfully in moments.

#

Considering Khadgar had a dream where he couldn't get back out of raven form and was relegated to a birdcage in the throne room, he was pretty happy to wake up back in his own body. Even happier to wake up next to Anduin, though that was a little more expected than still being a bird.

He hadn't forgotten Anduin's help yesterday. He sleepily cuddled up to the regent, throwing an arm over his waist and laying his head on Anduin's shoulder before starting to doze again.

He would have to remember to thank him, when he woke up–but Khadgar was happy to doze until he did. He wouldn't wake him with work this morning, that was for sure.

#

Anduin woke to sunlight on his face; Taria would be pleased he finally got a full rest. The night's activities came back to him in a rush and he was happy to find his arms full of mage and not bird. 

He'd thought he'd felt Khadgar stir, but the mage seemed fast asleep. Not wanting to disturb him , Anduin settled for gazing out the window at the clear blue sky.

#

Khadgar let himself doze a little bit longer when he realized Anduin was awake, but eventually he knew he had to get up; peaceful day or not, they couldn't stay in bed all day.

He lifted his head and sleepily looked up at Anduin. "Thank you...you know, for your help last night. The transformation spell didn't exactly work like I expected," he said with an almost bashful look on his face. "And sorry I kinda passed out on you."

He could explain the whole intricacies of the staff itself fueling the bird form but not the actual transformations, but he really doubted it mattered that much.

#

"There's a surprise," Anduin laughed, startled by the sudden sound of Khadar's voice. "I'm getting used to having you unconscious in my arms, and frankly I'd rather that not be the case, no matter how adorable you are when you can't get into trouble."

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then smiled at Khadgar. "And speaking of which, how did you manage to get stuck as a bird?"

#

"I, uh...I figured out how to do the transformation, and I figured that reversing it would be as simple as allowing the supply of energy to the spell to...drop," Khadgar explained, trying to put it in terms easily understood for someone without an aptitude for the arcane. "But it turned out Atiesh was supplying the energy while I was in form, so there wasn't any energy supply I could cut off. Turned out I had to tap into that supply and re–use it for the transformation back."

He blushed a little, still embarrassed that it had gone rather poorly. "That's why I was so exhausted after. Atiesh provides the energy while you're in form, since it's a magic based in the staff; but the second you're out of form, all that energy drops out from under you. I wasn't expecting it. It shouldn't be that bad next time," he added in a hurry. Now that he knew how the spell worked and how to prepare for it, he surely would have a better handle on things. He knew that Medivh could do the transformation with no incantation, no exhaustion, and no arcane signature like the glowing eyes; if he practiced enough, he knew he could get there.

#

"I can see that being a useful trick, Anduin said. "Well done. But I’m glad to have you back."

He kissed Khadgar's head.

"Seeing the kids yesterday made me realize I haven't spent much time with them since..." he broke off. "I asked Taria if I could take them hunting today. I think they've been cooped up in this city for too long. Would you want to join us?"

#

Khadgar blinked at Anduin in surprise, but it quickly turned into a warm feeling–something almost unfamiliar. He knew how important Taria's children were to Anduin–the fact that he was being invited along was no small thing, and he knew it.

"Of course," he said, shifting up a bit to give Anduin a quick kiss. "Can't say I'll be much help. Never been hunting before," he added after a moment. He could conjure food and water; even when he'd been on the run, that small amount of magic wasn't enough to weaken his shields or give away his location. He'd never had to hunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bird!Khadgar may or may not be GL's favoritest thing.


	9. Ninth Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys learn a new trick in bed; they later take the young royal siblings on a hunt; Stormwind gets some visitors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Ninth" really has stopped looking like a word to me. ~GL

"Seeing the kids yesterday made me realize I haven't spent much time with them since..." he broke off. "I asked Taria if I could take them hunting today. I think they've been cooped up in this city for too long. Would you want to join us?"

#

Khadgar blinked at Anduin in surprise, but it quickly turned into a warm feeling–something almost unfamiliar. He knew how important Taria's children were to Anduin–the fact that he was being invited along was no small thing, and he knew it.

"Of course," he said, shifting up a bit to give Anduin a quick kiss. "Can't say I'll be much help. Never been hunting before," he added after a moment. He could conjure food and water; even when he'd been on the run, that small amount of magic wasn't enough to weaken his shields or give away his location. He'd never _had_ to hunt.

#

"First time for everything," Anduin smiled, then reciprocated, kissing Khadgar more slowly. "You make a very cute bird," he added with a chuckle.

#  


Khadgar returned the kiss, but then gave Anduin a look. "You almost skewered me on your sword. Do you do that to every helpless animal that accidentally flies in your window?" he teased, drawing aimless circles on Anduin's chest.

#  


Anduin's face darkened, and he turned his face away from Khadgar, not wanting to bring up his thoughts when he'd first seen a raven on his desk. His panic at thinking he was faced with a spirit of Medivh seemed too heavy for the sunlight in the room. Unfounded, wild assumption on his part, and just more proof he needed to work though his lingering guilt and bereavement.

"Helpless, hm?" Anduin responded at last. "That will be the day." He caught Khadgar's fingers in his hand, and brought them to his mouth, drawing his pointer finger between his lips and sucking.

#

Khadgar felt his cheeks heat up and he swallowed hard, eyes flitting down to Anduin's lips and back up.

"You keep that up, and we're going to be late for that hunt," he pointed out, though he wasn't complaining, and he wasn't pulling away either. He was horrible at this whole 'discouragement' thing. 

...Which is probably why they managed to get into so much trouble, between the two of them.

#

Anduin's lips curved wickedly around Khadgar's digit. "Oh, they still need to eat breakfast, get dressed...Varian's worse than I am about getting up in the mornings," he said, removing Khadgar's hand from his mouth only long enough to speak. "But if you think we should get up," he shrugged, but licked Khadgar's middle finger suggestively, eyes dancing. 

He let go of Khadgar, and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, stretching.

#

Oh, that just wasn't _fair_.

Khadgar wasted no time in tugging Anduin backwards onto the bed, pressing one hand to his chest to keep him there as he leaned in and kissed him; this time, with more intensity than the lazy morning kisses they had been sharing till that point. If Anduin was going to tease, then Khadgar was going to make use of every minute of time they had before the kids were ready.

"If we're late, I get to blame you," he pointed out with a smirk against Anduin's lips. They both knew Taria wouldn't believe it had been just Anduin's fault, but she would readily let him take the blame for it, just because she was his sister.

#  


"That's a fair trade," Anduin conceded with a self–satisfied smile, enjoying Khadgar's weight on him. "Perhaps I could just tell her the truth–a bird flew in my window and started causing trouble. Think she'd believe it?"

He sought Khadgar's lips, drawing the bottom one between his teeth. He ran his hands down Khadgar's back to the top of his thighs, fingers curling to the inside of his legs.

#  


"Not for a second," Khadgar said with a laugh, breaking the kiss. He bit his lower lip at Anduin's touch, and moved instead to straddle him, his cock hardening as he pressed down against him with a moan.

"But I guess you can't tell her the actual truth," he added with a grin, pressing a few kisses to Anduin's jaw line and down his neck.

#

Heat went straight to Anduin's groin, and he pushed upward into Khadgar's hardening length. Anduin tilted his head to give Khadgar better access to his skin, and reached out to tug on his cock. 

"The noises you make," he growled, bucking upward. 

He let go of Khadgar to run his hand up to his chest, playing with a nipple before pinching it gently, experimentally. His blue eyes were dark with lust as he looked up at Khadgar.

#

Khadgar groaned against Anduin's skin, nipping at the man's collarbone before moving back up to kiss him on the lips.

"I've been doing some reading," he said, and then he realized how that sounded–probably the least sexy thing Anduin could hear right now. But it was different, really. "Like you suggested on the trip to Darnassus, actually," he quickly added, his voice low and rough as he rocked his hips down against Anduin's. He hoped Anduin remembered, because he really didn't want to pause things now to remind him.

#

"Oh, Light," Anduin breathed out. He thought he'd been hard, but that sentence coming from Khadgar made him positively ache. He thrust up, seeking more contact. The amount of friction between them was teasing at best.

He looked up into Khadgar's warm, intense brown eyes. "Tell me," he said, his voice husky with need.

#

Anduin was going to get less contact, at least for a few moments. Khadgar sat up and reached over to the bedside table, working quickly as he missed the contact himself; he opened the drawer and grabbed at a small container in it, usually used by the healers for medicinal oils. This oil...wasn't serving the same purpose, to say the least.

He pressed it into Anduin's hand, pretty sure that his face couldn't get more red if he tried. "Use lots and go slow," he advised, knowing that Anduin would get the idea. Khadgar was nearly trembling with a mix of need and anticipation, but at the same time, worry–done _right_ , this was supposed to be pleasurable, but evidently it wasn't hard to do it _wrong_ , if you weren't careful enough. 

He hoped too much of that worry didn't show on his face, because he trusted Anduin, no question.

#

Anduin blinked at the container in his hand. _Light_ but he wanted what Khadgar was offering. But...

"That's not a lot of direction," he grumbled, taking in Khadgar's beet–red face with amusement. He reached up and brushed a thumb over the other man's cheek. He took the jar from Khadgar and unscrewed the lid, dipping his fingers in to gather a generous amount. With his eyes on Khadgar's face, he reached down and touched himself, jerking into his own hand with a gasp as he made his cock slick.

He took Khadgar in hand again, pumping him a few more times before turning them both over so that he was between Khadgar's legs as the mage lay on his back. He couldn't shake the feeling that this just didn't seem like it was going to be adequate for _where_ he had to enter. He bent over and took his time kissing Khadgar's full lips, then his jawline, working his way over his neck to his collarbone, before dragging a tongue over both nipples. He ran a hand over the other man's stomach, trying to get him to relax, and encouraged Khadgar's legs to part further, bending them toward his chest. He reached between them, palming Khadgar's cock and then fondling his balls before going even lower, positioning himself between the mage's full cheeks.

He pushed forward, and immediately understood that it just wasn't going to work. Khadgar was too tight. He breathed out an apology over Khadgar's lips and replaced his cock with his hand again.

"I think we need to do this first," Anduin murmured, a little doubtfully. His body was screaming at him just to thrust and _take_ Khadgar, but he worked an already coated finger inside Khadgar's ass, shoving it in up to his knuckle and watching Khadgar's face closely for a reaction.

#

"They didn't exactly have _diagrams_ ," Khadgar said with a laugh as Anduin flipped him over, his heart beating somewhere in his throat out of both nervousness and anticipation. He arched into Anduin's touch, breath coming faster with each moment.

He tensed up at the first press of Anduin against him. "Yeah, no, no. I think–" he started, but by then Anduin was already changing tactics, and Khadgar gasped and tensed around him as Anduin shoved a finger up inside him.

He immediately grabbed onto Anduin's arms and tried to relax, because he'd gotten the idea of how important that was, and Light, it _hurt_ until he forced himself to stop tensing up so much.

"Okay, okay, _slow_ ," he said, swallowing hard and dropping his head back against the bed. He had the briefest moment of doubt, because Anduin's cock was a hell of a lot bigger than this, but he knew it could work and he was determined.

#

Anduin fretted at seeing how Khadgar was definitely not enjoying his touch, but he was still encouraging him despite his stomach rising and falling with a rhythm bordering on panic.

Anduin kissed his throat. "You tell me to stop if you need to," he ordered. "I'll do my best...this isn't just going to...you're supposed to like it, too?"

He slowly, slowly pulled his finger out and pushed it back in with just as much care. Sitting back, he used his other hand to give Khadgar's cock attention, hoping the feelings of pleasure might distract him enough to relax. 

Finally he felt him start to loosen, and he stopped stroking long enough to coat a second finger with the lubricant.  He worked both inside Khadgar, pumping him again with a deft hand. He left off before he could come, though–he had an idea that their chosen activity would lose all pleasure for the mage if he did.

Anduin was trembling, himself–watching Khadgar spread out before him was borderline torture with the pace they were setting, however necessary.

#

Khadgar nodded, his grip on Anduin slowly turning into something that wasn't a death grip as the pain subsided a bit. "I'm alright," he insisted, because he was, really–he'd been expecting some pain, and at first he'd been unsure, but Anduin seemed to be letting up a bit now. When Anduin's hand closed around his cock, his hips jerked up; for a moment, he wasn't sure whether to press down on the finger inside him or thrust up into the tight grip.

He hissed and had to fight against tensing up again as Anduin added another finger, and his nails dug into Anduin's arms, but before Anduin could worry too much he nodded at him to keep going. It hurt at first, yes, a painful intense stretch that made him wonder just how this was supposed to feel _good_ , but it wasn't so bad once he relaxed into it. Strange, not amazing, but not really painful anymore.

He whined softly as Anduin's hand pulled away from his cock. "Anduin–" he gasped, wrapping one leg around Anduin's waist to try to keep him pulled in close. Painful or not, he wanted to be closer to Anduin, wanted to make him fall apart like he had before.

#

Anduin made an unintelligible noise deep in his throat and removed his fingers.  He couldn't wait any longer if Khadgar was going to do that to him.

He braced himself on the bed to either side of Khadgar, and kept his eyes on his face, watching for any sign he needed to stop.

"Okay," He said soothingly. "Okay, that's it. You're amazing that you're trying this for me. You have no idea what you look like right now, Khadgar. _Ungh_."

The last part was said as with agonizing slowness, he pushed his erection into Khadgar. He only sludge into him a small amount before, shaking, he forced himself to stop and wait for the other man to adjust. It just seemed like he was tensing further, though, and with a murmured, guilt–ridden apology he pushed himself the rest of the way in, hoping Khadgar would begin to loosen if his body knew what it had to accommodate. 

Shaking, Anduin held himself still, even as his senses were being taken over by pleasure.

#

At first, Khadgar was sure that this wasn't going to work. It hurt too much, and he clenched his jaw and went rigid as Anduin pushed into him.

_Relax_ , he thought, forcing himself to work past the pain and take a deep breath, though his grip on Anduin's arms had to hurt. Slowly, the pain started to fade into a dull ache, and he shifted restlessly under the warrior, knowing how much effort it was taking for Anduin to stay still. And he appreciated it. A lot.

Pupils blown wide with arousal, he met Anduin's gaze and pulled him in for a breathless, messy kiss. He didn't even realize he was shaking. "Okay. I'm okay," he insisted, his voice hoarse as he fought to keep himself relaxed. He was still on that razor's edge between too much pain and a tolerable amount of pain, and he wasn't expecting miracles here, but the look on Anduin's face was more than worth it. That and the encouragement from him made him feel like he could handle any amount of pain for this, at least until they figured things out.

#

"I'm hurting you," Anduin said with regret, his voice unsteady. He began to pull back out, tripping over his apologies.

But Khadgar still said he was okay. Conflicted, Anduin hesitated. He kissed Khadgar's mouth, his cheeks, his forehead. He tried tilting his hips, hoping for a better angle–Khadgar wasn't a woman, though, and even if his wife had liked it better with re–positioning, he had no hope it would be the same for a man. It was the last thing he'd try before giving up on this–no matter how all–encompassing the feelings of pleasure were for him, it wasn't worth it if he was going to cause Khadgar's face to pinch in pain like that.

Slowly he pushed inside again, worry clear on his face. He nearly doubled over with sensations from the contractions Khadgar was making around his length.

#

Khadgar once again tightened his leg where it was wrapped behind Anduin, hating that look of regret on his face. "Really, I'm f–fine, it–"

He was about to say 'it's not that bad', when suddenly Anduin changed _something_ , and the pain was nearly forgotten at the way warm pleasure raced up his spine. It wasn't the sharp, intense pleasure he usually associated with sex–it was deeper, more subtle, but _building_.

"Anduin," he said, the name coming out as more of a moan as he relaxed into the feeling, which made the pain lessen even more. His hands moved to dig short nails into Anduin's back instead of holding at his arms like a lifeline, and he let his eyes fall closed for a moment.

_Now_ he saw why people put up with the pain to get to this point.

"Right there, that's....oh, _Light_ –" he stumbled over the words, trying to be encouraging, but it was difficult to concentrate when all of the arousal he'd lost in the pain was coming back full force.

#

Anduin groaned at that, his eyes wild with desire. Whatever he'd done seemed to _work._ He thanked the Light and whatever Gods were listening. His name in that voice coming from Khadgar's lips was more than enough encouragement; he pulled out and thrust, carefully, again and again, overcome with the expression of pleasure that was finally on Khadgar's face.

He leaned on one elbow and reached between them to take Khadgar's cock in hand, struggling to hold onto his own control.

"Khadgar," he rasped, his voice shot through with want. The feeling of sharp nails digging into his skin only added to the tension pooling within him; he liked the feeling of the mage losing control for him, and he especially enjoyed Khadgar relaxing enough to be demanding. Light knew it had taken long enough to get him past his nervousness. " _Khadgar."_

It was beyond reason, how good it felt to be seated inside him. He pumped Khadgar between them frantically in time with the rhythm of his hips.

#

That deep, subtle pleasure seemed to get less and less so with each time that Anduin thrust into him; soon Khadgar was rocking down against him, the sensations building with each movement, with each breath. He cried out when Anduin took him in hand and started stroking him, and soon his other leg was wrapped around Anduin as well, desperately pulling him closer, deeper.

"Anduin," he said, feeling like he was about to lose control, his body clenching down around the length inside him. If any pain had been left, it was entirely forgotten as his back arched and his toes curled with the pleasure overtaking him.

It was almost too much. "I...I c–can't...Anduin–!" he choked out, caught between the dual feelings inside of him and from the hand wrapped firmly around him.

His whole body tensed and he cried out loud enough to probably be heard halfway down the hall as he released; and unbeknownst to him, his eyes lit up blue with the arcane, just for those few seconds as his nails dragged down Anduin's back in his ecstasy. 

#

Anduin's eyes widened as suddenly, Khadgar's eyes turned bright with the glow of magic.

It was the most breathtaking thing he had ever experienced, knowing he had caused Khadgar to lose that much control. He gave up trying to direct his thrusts and just lost himself to the moment.

Khadgar tensing around him was all he needed; the added friction sent Anduin tumbling over the edge into bliss. His shout mixed with Khadgar's cry as they shuddered into one another. He didn't even have the coherence to pull out immediately; he let his forehead rest on Khadgar's, their erratic breaths mingling as Anduin fought back to awareness.

He pressed his lips to Khadgar's, and his eyes, when he looked at him, were impossibly full of warmth and awe.

#

Khadgar had to focus on just breathing for a few long moments as he shuddered through the aftershocks; he returned the kiss with a smile, and when he met Anduin's gaze, he was momentarily taken aback by the warmth and the _love_ he found there.

"Light, I love you," he said softly, letting his legs fall from Anduin's waist, going nearly boneless on the bed. He reached up to tug at Anduin's hair, pulling him into another kiss.

He could only wonder what he'd ever done to deserve this man.

#

Anduin pulled out and rolled to the side, kissing Khadgar back deeply. After he cleaned his hand on the bedsheets he reached up and brushed the sweaty strands of Khadgar's hair off his forehead.

"I love you too," he said.

He knew that they would have to hurry to get ready after that so as not to disappoint his niece and nephew, but he allowed himself a moment longer to watch Khadgar. He looked so content, and it amazed him that he was the one who was able to put that happiness on his face. He smiled at him.

"Your eyes glowed blue," he said softly. "Did you feel it?"

#

Khadgar's eyes widened, and then he blushed–he hadn't realized he'd lost control to _that_ extent. Luckily, without an incantation, the chances of him actually casting a spell in that situation were slim to none.

"I didn't know," he said; he felt kind of sweaty and gross, but to be fair, it was well worth it. "We should probably get ready. I think we've used up all our time and then some," he joked.

He kissed Anduin and then sat up–and immediately winced. Okay, for one, why did Anduin have to be so well endowed, and two–maybe today wasn't a great choice for this, considering now he had to go sit on a horse all day.

He was _so_ blaming Anduin for this at the end of the day.

#  


After they'd finished cleaning up as best they could without taking the time for a bath, they found Varian and Adariall waiting in the courtyard with Taria and four horses, already saddled and loaded with packs. The children were both in royal blue tunics atop sand–colored breeches, and each were equipped with a child–sized rifle–gifts from the Dwarves.

Anduin himself carried a bow and arrows, in addition to his sword.

Taria was giving them a look of poorly–concealed amusement.

"I'm sorry if we kept you waiting," Anduin said.

"Not long," Taria said. "There's a picnic packed for you."

"Come _on,_ " Varian insisted. "Uncle Anduin, you're taking _forever."_

Anduin laughed. "All right, your highness, all right. All set, Adariall?"

The little girl nodded, but she was looking at Khadgar. "Is he coming too?" She seemed to perk up.

#

Khadgar grinned, fastening his traveling cloak around his neck. "Of course I'm coming. Who else would protect you if you got into trouble?" he teased, casting an amused look Anduin's way.

He was just glad Taria looked amused and not irritated. 

He slid his foot in the stirrup and swung his other leg up over his own horse, which was a few hands shorter than Anduin's–though he couldn't hide the wince as he settled into the saddle. He recovered quickly, though, and gave Taria a reassuring smile.

"We'll have them back safe before you know it," he promised her, and he meant it. He knew both he and Anduin would lay down their lives before letting anything happen to these two children.

#  


"We don't need protection," Varian announced stiffly.

"Of course not," Anduin rolled his eyes, and helped Varian into his saddle. He shot a mirthful glance back at Khadgar. "Try not to lose your pony this time, bookworm."

"Is everything all right, Khadgar?" Taria asked. "I know you just recovered from your illness, are you sure you're all right to ride?"

Anduin blinked between them both, then cursed his idiocy. He went about helping Adariall up onto her pony, turning his face to hide his guilty blush. He hoped the day's travel wouldn't hurt the mage after what they'd done. He hadn't even considered any lingering effects.

"What did you do wrong?" She whispered to him.

Of course a child could smell mischief a mile away. He gave her a wink instead of answering and she giggled.

#

Khadgar's face turned about the same shade of red as a fire, and he coughed and looked away. "I'm absolutely fine, don't worry," he insisted, praying to whatever gods might be listening that she wouldn't push about it.

He wasn't about to explain to his Queen exactly why he was in pain. He'd never be able to look her in the eye again out of sheer embarrassment.

"I highly doubt we'll be running into anything that's interested in stealing a horse today," he pointed out to Anduin with a smile, not mentioning the whole 'Orc' part of it. The last thing he wanted to do was scare the children. 

He just hoped they didn't ask any hard questions–or if they did, that Anduin would handle it–because Khadgar wasn't used to dealing with children. Age groups were separated at Dalaran, and he rarely spent time with the younger classes. 

#

"Let's hope not," Anduin grinned at Khadgar, and mounted his own horse. "Let's have an adventure!" He called to the children, and led them out of the city into Elwynn Forest.

The children were quiet as they started out, but the silence fell away along with the city as they passed Goldshire and into a clearing known for its boars. There were also, unfortunately, large, hairy spiders, but Anduin figured it would be good practice for brave Varian to test his wits and his skill, and Adariall if she so wished.

"Mother says you've been gone so much because of the war, Uncle Anduin," Adariall piped up. "Is that true?"

"Yes," Anduin half-lied, and quickly made an attempt to distract her. "Did you hear about our trip to the Elves?"

"The High Elves? They come here all the time," Varian scoffed.

"No, the Night Elves. Darnassians. They live in a tree so large the top is hidden by clouds," Anduin said with a grin, properly getting their attention. He regaled them with the story of their trip, leaving out the parts that were too scary or too grim.

By the end of it, both children's eyes were wide. He shot a quick smile to Khadgar.

"You fought a druid?" Varian asked, finally suitably impressed with the Guardian.

#  


Khadgar listened with probably just as much amusement on his face as the children; he loved seeing Anduin like this, carefree and _happy_. There had been so much strife and conflict lately, he had to hold onto these peaceful moments while he had them.

"I did. It was a tough fight," Khadgar said to Varian with a bashful smile. "He switched between cat form and bear form a few times."

He gave Anduin a smirk, then. "But your uncle taught me a few tricks that helped a lot," he pointed out, giving Anduin his due credit.

Yeah, he never wanted to fight a Druid again if he could help it–but he couldn't deny that he was proud he'd succeeded. 

#

"Do you think Khadgar was bigger than the bear?" Anduin asked the children as they waited for suitable game to appear. 

The two kids looked at Khadgar, then each other, then laughed. Anduin sent an apologetic look Khadgar's way. 

"How do you think he won, then?" He asked, bending over to stroke his horse's neck. 

"He was stronger," Varian said.

"Than a big bear–druid?" Anduin made a ferocious face. 

"He was faster," Adariall spoke up. 

"Yes," Anduin said. "Faster of mind. He was smarter. If you go up against something bigger than you, use your head. There's usually a way to trick them into giving you the upper hand. But," and this was not advice he'd given to Callan, but he desperately wished he had, "If you can't outsmart them, there is no shame in running. If you have no people to protect, if there is no one you are leaving behind, then live to fight another day." He glanced to Khadgar, almost searching for approval, before looking away.

There was a sudden hiss, and the horses danced sideways in tandem. So much more skittish than his gryphon, or the Elven cats. "Easy," he cautioned the group as a whole. "Spider, there." He pointed. "Which of you would like to try and get it?"

Varian was notoriously not fond of arachnids, but he looked ready to take it on anyway. 

"I will," Adariall said, saving her brother. Anduin urged his horse sideways, until he was next to her. "Do you remember what you were taught?"

She cocked her gun. Anduin adjusted her grip slightly. 

The spider neared. She shot. Ichor hit Anduin in face, but he cheered through the good-natured laughter at his expense.

"Good!" He crowed, hopping down to retrieve what goods were salvageable from the corpse. 

#

Khadgar nodded his approval at the advice; he definitely agreed with the lesson Anduin was teaching the children. He pulled his horse to a stop not far behind them as Anduin adjusted her grip and watched as she fired the gun. 

The shot attracted the attention of something in the tree above them, and Khadgar frowned, lifting his hand. The spider wasn't a mortal threat, but he really didn't want it landing on Anduin, all the same. " _Talar'analas_!" he chanted, firing off a fire blast that smacked into the spider just as it started to jump down from the tree.

The flaming body fell between Anduin and his horse, and while the horse startled and backed up, it didn't flee; the mark of a well trained horse. 

"Sorry," Khadgar called out to Anduin with a smile. "I didn't think you would want that landing in your hair."

#

"You just–you just shot fire from your _hands!_ " Varian practically screamed.

"Hush!" Anduin said, making downward motions with his hands. "Well, you've just scared any game away from here to Darkshire."

Varian flushed, but repeated in a loud whisper, "But he just shot _fire_  from his _hands."_

Anduin grinned back at Khadgar. Where once he would have teased the mage about the lack of real threat, or the size of his kill, now he simply praised him. "Mages are useful to have around, aren't they? And Guardians more so. Treat him nicely and maybe he'll show you more tricks, little lion."

#

Khadgar laughed; he couldn't help it. It had been a long time since anyone had shown such joy at one magic spell. 

Sometimes he forgot why he'd come to love magic so much in the first place, when he'd had to use it so much for war.

"Come here," Khadgar said, hopping down from his horse and beckoning the young prince to him. Varian walked over to Khadgar as the Guardian knelt down and held out his hand, palm up.

"Felo'alarn," he said, his eyes lighting up for a moment as a fist–sized flame appeared in his palm. The fire danced and crackled, and Khadgar held out his other hand to Varian.

"Give me your hand and hold still, alright?" he said with an encouraging smile. Varian looked a little nervous, but he did as asked, holding out his hand. 

There was no danger to the trick, but it was always a thrill for non-magic users, especially younger ones. Khadgar held his hand over Varian's and let the flame fall into it; it gave off a warmth and danced across the child's fingers, but it was neither hot nor dangerous. Khadgar pulled his hands away and left Varian cupping the fire in his palm.

"Look at you, holding a fire in your hand. You must have some magic in you," he said with a grin as Varian stared in wonder. 

#

Anduin leaned against the tree, watching Khadgar with Varian. Adariall, warier of magic, had urged her horse forward nonetheless to peer at the flame in her brother's hands. Their horses, trained to remain near them, were grazing, chewing grass around the bits in their mouths. 

It was perfect weather for their excursion, and there was a sweet note to the breeze. Anduin couldn't remember the last time he'd felt even marginally that at peace. He tried to focus on what Taria had tried to tell him in so many words–to just to live in the moment, without worrying when the moment would end. 

There was a ray of sunlight shining through the leaves above his head, and Anduin turned his face toward it, letting his eyes shut so he could appreciate the warmth. He trusted Khadgar to watch for danger, at least for a little while.

#

It took a bit of convincing, but Varian excitedly convinced his sister to come over and hold the fire. Khadgar moved the flame from Varian's hand and set it in Adariall's outstretched hands, and though she winced at first, she quickly relaxed as she realized that the fire wasn't hot and wouldn't burn her. She moved her fingers through it, eyes widening with fascination.

"Uncle Anduin!" Varian said with excitement, forgetting his 'inside voice' for the moment. "Come try this! You can hold a fire and it doesn't burn!"

Khadgar grinned with amusement, looking up at where Anduin stood enjoying the sunlight. "Yeah, Anduin, come try it," he said teasingly, though that teasing note was probably lost on the children.

After all, Anduin had seen plenty of his magic over the last few months.

#

Anduin looked over and grinned to see that Adariall had joined them. He humored Varian by coming over and holding out his hand obediently to Khadgar. 

"I wonder what else our mage can do with magic," he said, raising an eyebrow at Khadgar. He hadn't really experienced the mage using the arcane for anything but fighting and protection; to see him do small spells for the sheer enjoyment of it made him curious. "That he hasn't told me about," Anduin added, his voice low. 

#

Khadgar sparked the fire to life in Anduin's hands, and for just a few moments, he was enjoying the little spells that had once been practice for bigger spells in the side halls of Dalaran. Back then, they had been just that–practice. And he'd learned to do so much since then, he'd almost forgotten how fun this could be.

"Hold still, Anduin," he said, eyes sparking to life with blue light once again as he switched to Dwarven, letting the magical fire die out. " _Havagun, rugash frean_ ," he said, the spell clear and strong as he held out his hand toward Anduin. 

A golden light spring up draped over Anduin's shoulders, quickly taking form as a small gold dragon made of light. It chirped and crawled from one shoulder to the other, sparks of golden light leaving its nose instead of smoke. 

#  


"Well, that's a fine trick," Anduin murmured, but his eyes were on Khadgar's. He bent down so the children could interact with the magic–made dragon on his shoulders.

He smiled up at Khadgar. His heart was lighter for seeing the mage simply play. For all his teasing earlier in their friendship about Khadgar being a kid, it seemed like he'd missed out on a lot of what it meant to actually be one. His seriousness and anxiety had just made Anduin want to rib him until they fell away and left the young Guardian free of his insecurities. He was happy to see his efforts paying off. 

Just then, Adariall let out a shriek, and pointed behind Anduin. He turned just in time to skewer another spider with his sword. 

"Perhaps we should find another clearing," he suggested. Without thinking about it, he reached up to pet the conjured dragon, before remembering it wasn't real. 

#

Khadgar shifted his hand just a bit, so the dragon looked like it was arching up into the touch just before it burst into sparks. "I agree. I'm not all that fond of...massive arachnids," he said, standing up and brushing himself off. He helped Varian up onto his horse before mounting his own–not without a wince at the pain that he'd briefly forgotten about.

"What else are you planning to hunt?" he asked Anduin, guiding his horse up just behind Adariall and Varian's horses. He'd readily fallen into keeping an eye out behind them; with only he and Anduin here to protect the two children, they had to stay vigilant, against both man and beast.

#

Anduin grinned a little ferally at him. "I thought you'd be right at home with large arachnids," he said, referencing the land around Karazhan. "At any rate, there's a wolf that's been terrorizing the forest just east of Goldshire. The locals have called him Lamepaw. There's murlocs over that way, though, so we'll have to keep a sharp eye out."

He led the way at a leisurely trot, his eyes sharp on the forest around them. There hadn't been any Orc sightings so close to the city, but he didn't feel as if he could assume anything at that point. The memory of being ambushed the first time Khadgar rode with them was still fresh in his mind. 

Soon they went off the paths and into the deeper forest, working their way around the lake that was there until they were closer to the mountains. He motioned for their party to be quiet, looking over to Varian. He was pleased to see the prince was scanning the area, his rifle held at ready. Adariall was doing the same, albeit more nervously; she had never been over fond of dogs or wolves.

"It will be okay," he whispered to her. "I'm here for you."

She nodded seriously. 

#  


"Lamepaw isn't exactly a name that speaks of a thing striking terror," Khadgar pointed out in a mutter. Either he was missing something vital here, or these people needed to work on their naming tactics; a limping wolf didn't seem that big of a deal to him.

Then again, he'd never had to live in fear of some rabid animal, so perhaps he wasn't one to talk.

His horse knew when something wasn't quite right, though. The animal started tossing its head, stomping at the ground with its front feet as it snorted, refusing to move forward. "Whoa, whoa," Khadgar said softly, getting a tighter grip on the reins and trying to calm it down, but the animal was having none of it. It backed up a few steps, kicking up dirt as its hooves stamped at the ground below.

#

"Easy," Anduin bent over the neck of his own horse, petting it soothingly. 

He had no doubt that Khadgar and he would be able to take the wolf on without incident; the farmers didn't like their sheep going missing but the wanted poster was up in Goldshire among the other nuisances. It would be good training for the children, but as long as they were alert, there would be no danger.

There was a sudden low growl; Anduin's hand shot to his sword. He nodded to Varian. "You can do this," he said. 

Varian looked confident until the wolf made itself known; it skulked out of the trees, body like a small pony. 

#

Khadgar watched and tried to keep a tight rein on his horse as the wolf stalked out of the woods. It did have a wobble to the way it moved, but it was a massive wolf; he had to keep himself from interfering. 

Anduin wanted the kids to learn to hunt–so one of the kids should be the one to take out the wolf. Varian's gun shook as he raised it, but he tightened his grip on it and aimed solemnly–and for a moment, just a moment, Khadgar thought he saw a hint of Llane in those eyes.

The bullet flew true, and the wolf jerked, whined, took a few steps, and fell.

And at the same time, Khadgar realized that the wolf wasn't what was bothering his horse.

He could feel it underneath them now, now that he was focusing on what was distressing her. He took in a sharp breath and hopped off the horse, taking a few steps away and kneeling down to the ground. "It can't be..." he said softly, pressing one hand to the dirt and reaching through with the arcane.

He had found something that may tell them what Gul'dan was trying to do–but it still didn't make _sense_. 

#  


"Excellent shot, Varian!" Anduin praised. He hadn't thought the young boy would have hit his mark so true, but Varian had always been skilled and was only becoming more accomplished as he got older. He would make a fine king for Stormwind; he just had to get over his impulsiveness and the hint of selfishness that came from being doted on by all who met him. 

"Come," he said to the children. "I know I've shown you before, but I'll remind you how to truss this fellow for travel, and then we'll skin him back at the city."

He glanced up to see how Khadgar was faring, but he wasn't on his horse. He shot upright, panicking before his eyes settled on Khadgar's bent form. 

"Khadgar?" He questioned. "What have you found?" 

He kept the children between them, so he could have an eye on the forest.

#  


Khadgar stared at the ground for a few moments. He knew what he was feeling, but he needed to see it–and the only way he could was a spell he'd only done a few times before. One Anduin would recognize.

His eyes lit up with the arcane, and he started to both gather energy, and reach out to what he'd found below ground.

" _Andu lo tor adore_ ," he chanted, the words smooth and strong, more confident than the last few times he'd done this. He gathered the arcane, focused, and aimed. " _Athala dor nei!_ "

He released the energy toward the ground, and suddenly the blue of his magic clashed with the fel magic beneath. The green lines were fractured, cracked, and thin–but they seemed to reach out in all directions. 

"This...doesn't make any sense," Khadgar said, holding the spell steady as he turned around to look in all directions. The lines seemed to reach everywhere, but...none of the lines were strong. "These...these cant even be used without a _massive_ power source. Why would he waste all this energy?"

#

"Can these harm us?" Anduin asked tensely. fighting back fear. But Khadgar wasn't telling them to run.

He bent and quickly helped the children finish the job before them. He gave them both more praise as they put the wolf over the back of his horse, and had to smile at the way they practically preened under his words. He'd been right–Taria was doing her best, but they were lonely.

After helping them back on their mounts, he took out jerky from the pack on Khadgar's pony and handed it to the young royals. "We may have to skip a picnic, little lions. I'm sorry. Stay close while you eat that." He needn't have worried, though; they were both staring in abject fascination at Khadgar's use of the arcane.

"What is that?" Varian breathed out.

"Nothing that will hurt you," Anduin promised. He patted his leg in reassurance. "It just means the Guardian is checking on something, but it's nothing for you to worry over."

Easy for him to tell the children that. A sick knot was twining itself through his belly.

Keeping an eye on the kids he walked over to Khadgar and crouched down. "Why are there so many? Massive power source..."

His mind darted back to the attack on their party in Elwynn Forest.

"Khadgar...do you remember the spell Medivh did? Against the fel–Orcs who attacked us? If this needs a power source...there's life all around us. Our people's. Is that possible?"

He kept his voice low, away from the ears of Adariall and Varian.

#

Khadgar let the spell drop, taking in a deep breath as the ground below them faded back to normal dirt and grass. He looked up at Anduin, his eyes back to their normal dark brown shade. "No. There's no talk of Orcs taking prisoners recently, and there's no possible way Gul'dan could perform that kind of spell over that large of a distance," he explained, frowning as he looked back down at the ground.

"To make use of this kind of network, they need one of two things; an extensive series of runes that would take years and dozens more of their warlocks to set up, or an absolutely huge influx of fel power," he added, and then he took in a sharp breath. 

If life to convert to fel was what Gul'dan needed to activate such a network, well...they would be delivering that to his front door. But Gul'dan wasn't strong enough to make use of that, or he would have done it on the last battlefield.

"An army like ours may be sufficient, but if Gul'dan could have used an army to power his magic, he would have done that the last time we attacked, with King Llane," he said, making sure the kids were talking amongst themselves and not paying attention. "He doesn't have that kind of power, to use a force than can fight back as fuel for the fel. I..."

He ran his fingers through his hair, brow furrowing with a frown. "I don't know, Anduin. I don't know what he's planning. This seems...too _big_ to be Gul'dan, if it's truly what I believe it is. But it's not natural fel corruption. This _was_ done purposefully."

#

Anduin let out a breath he hadn't been holding. "So Stormwind is safe from this?" He gestured around them. Then he frowned.

"Khadgar..." He didn't like what he was thinking, but he'd been wrong about everything else he'd asked the Guardian, so maybe he'd be wrong about this, too. "Gul'dan himself might not be powerful enough. But it wasn't Gul'dan who was inside the Darnassian captain. It was a demon who tried to take you over, a demon who had infected Medivh. Not Gul'dan."

His eyes remained on the forest around them. It remained peaceful. The sunlight and the quiet chattering of birds suddenly seemed deceptive.

"Uncle Anduin?" Adariall asked, her eyes wide. "Is something the matter?"

"What do you believe it is, spell-chucker? What aren't I seeing?" Anduin asked, tilting his head.

#

Khadgar couldn't lie; he'd had the same thought.

"The demon can't act independently. Not unless he makes it through to this world. He can only do so much through an avatar, and he's limited by that avatar's magical potential...which is why he was so easy to handle on the ship," he explained. "Even through Gul'dan, he can only do as much as Gul'dan could do at full potential."

_Which is why the demon is trying so hard to control me_ , he thought, but he knew he didn't need to say it. Anduin already knew as much. Khadgar knew he had great potential–but in the hands of a demon, that could mean disaster.

"I believe...if this kind of network were fed sufficient energy, it could sunder this whole world on an arcane level," he said softly. "It could allow access to and from the Twisting Nether in so many places, it may be impossible to repair every rift."

#

"Everything's fine," Anduin turned to Adariall, answering her question, his eyes bright.

"I think you're lying," Varian said doubtfully. "Why can't we picnic if everything's fine?"

Anduin clapped a hand on Khadgar's shoulder, giving it a squeeze as he sent him a pointed look. "Right now everything is all right," he told Varian. "And that is what matters. Khadgar here just found out something more about what we're fighting in the war using his magic. It's not for you to worry about, got that?"

Both children frowned at them.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Let's go back to your mother and show them what you've managed. You fought well today. You took care of spiders and this wolf and didn't miss a shot. Isn't that something?"

Talk of their accomplishments was enough to throw both the prince and princess off track. Anduin jumped on his horse. "Time to go back," he said to Khadgar.

#

Khadgar nodded, mounting up on his horse and trying to cast the thoughts aside, at least until they got back to the castle. These children had enough to worry about without thinking of the fel beneath their feet.

"You certainly know your weapons better than I would," he pointed out, which earned a proud look from the two youngsters, that they exceeded the Guardian in something.

Khadgar knew Anduin would prefer that he were more skilled with a sword and shield, but he had the feeling it would be a long time before he was passable with those weapons on the battlefield. 

"Let's get you two home then, shall we?" He said, taking up his spot behind the two children once they'd mounted their horses.

#

They rode back to Stormwind as quickly as the ponies would allow. The children seemed to pick up on their pensive mood, their talking growing quieter as they went even though Anduin tried to toss a question or two their way to keep them occupied.

Taria, alerted by the guards, came to meet them, her face concerned. She didn't ask them about what happened in front of her children, though she she sent Anduin a questioning glance.

"Elwynn Forest is a little safer thanks to these two," Anduin proclaimed grandly. "They're learning to protect their people already."

"Khadgar gave us flames to hold, except they were magic and didn't burn!" Adariall said excitedly. "And he gave Uncle a dragon!"

Taria smiled at them then. "Did he, now?"

They started telling her rapidly about their day, apparently happy despite the truncated excursion.

"We'll come by later," Anduin promised her.

He turned to Khadgar, at a loss, stepping in close to the mage. "The Night Elves are not arriving quickly enough for my taste, we still haven't heard from the Dark Irons, and I'm not sure how to fight something that we can't even see," he said to him, his voice low so as not to be overheard. "How can we track a demon?"

#

  
"Anduin, we can't go hunting down this demon," Khadgar said, his stomach doing a flip. "I barely fought him off the last two times he tried to attack me. I can't guarantee a third time would go the same unless we know we have the upper hand. We can't afford to risk him having a Guardian's powers at his disposal."

Khadgar would have liked to say that he would never let it happen. That a demon could never truly take him over. But that would be a lie, wouldn't it?

He'd used the fel to save Anduin. He'd very nearly lost himself to it. And Medivh was no pushover, yet he still fell.

"If we take out Gul'dan, we take out the demon's most powerful connection to this world," he added. "If we manage that, it will be a long time before the demon can gain the same advantages that he has now."

#

Anduin's hands balled at his sides. If this demon was threatening his world, if it was threatening Khadgar, he wanted it gone. He didn't understand why they couldn't do more to fight it directly. But looking at Khadgar, he remembered what it took the last time they'd faced Gul'dan, and how very close to having to kill him he'd come. He would have lost his very soul had that happened.

"So we have to take out Gul'dan," Anduin said. "We knew that. But can we really wait for the reinforcements from Darnassus? How do we know how much time we have before those fel lines you brought up in the forest are activated?"

His expression as he looked at Khadgar bordered on manic. He felt as though the people he loved were about to slip through his grasp once again, and he wasn't sure how to stop it.

"I don't want you facing him until you are sure you are prepared," he said, his voice steel coated in silk.

#

"I don't even know where he could get a power source for those fel lines. As far as I know, he doesn't have the capability to use that network. The demon might, but he would have to fully enter this world to do it," Khadgar pointed out. "Gul'dan may be setting up the fel lines for the demon to use later, but that brings up the entire issue of him not having a way to get the demon here. Not unless the demon takes Gul'dan, but in that case, he may lose the Orcs as pawns. They'll follow Gul'dan because he's an Orc; they won't follow a demon, however arbitrary that may seem to us."

No, if the demon took over Gul'dan, he would risk losing the support of the entire Orc army. He wouldn't risk that–not unless he knew he could power that fel network incredibly quickly, which was a long shot at best.

"I don't know that I'll ever truly be prepared," he said softly. "I don't know if I'm _capable_ of defeating that demon, Anduin. I don't know."

#  


Swallowing thickly, Anduin reached out and grabbed Khadgar, pulling him into his chest, propriety be damned. He didn't care if they were standing in the middle of the courtyard where every single guard and passerby could see.

Sometimes–not often, because he hated the idea of being powerless–but sometimes he wondered what it would be like to be a peasant, someone who didn't have the fate of their land on their shoulders. Someone who didn't have to make the choice between protecting an entire people and the individuals that they loved.

He had thought he had come to peace with death a long time ago. As a warrior, you lost your comrades all the time in battle, and you knew that your life was not guaranteed from one day to the next. Those who fell had been people who'd chosen to fight and did so honorably. For the longest time, he hadn't had that much to lose, aside from himself. It was only after Callan had started going to the field that he realized it didn't matter how much you thought you were prepared. Grief was a cruel master.

It was easier, before. Easier when he lived in the moment, before. Easier when the world didn't seem any dimmer with each death.

But it seemed like the very sun would be swallowed if Khadgar did not exist in Azeroth.

#  


Khadgar was startled at first when Anduin yanked him forward into a tight hug; but it wasn't long before he was wrapping his arms around Anduin in turn.

He didn't want this responsibility. It terrified him; even more than when Alodi had set him against Medivh, what felt like forever ago. Medivh was familiar, if lost–these demons were entirely foreign, an evil almost beyond comprehension. 

He didn't want to admit that he was scared, but at the same time, he knew he didn't have to. It was obvious.

"Promise me," he said, just loud enough for Anduin to hear, even with his forehead pressed against Anduin's shoulder. "Promise me you'll kill me if he takes me. I'd rather die than hurt any of you, Anduin."

He didn't want that task to fall to Anduin, but at the same time–he somehow knew Anduin was the only one he'd be able to hold the demon back from long enough for him to strike with his sword. 

#

"Let's worry about that if we ever get to it, spell-chucker," Anduin said into Khadgar's hair.

If Khadgar was ever really truly gone, consumed by a demon, he thought he could–but the question was how would he know for certain? How could he identify the point of no return? He'd seen Khadgar almost taken by the fel twice now, and both times the mage had fought it off, even when it seemed as if all hope might be lost. He wasn't confident he could make the call without thinking that if  he'd just waited a moment longer, things might have turned around.

"But I don't think you will," he added. "You're stronger than they are. I know you are. Don't let them take you."

What had been a command ended in a plea.

#

"You know I'll fight it," Khadgar said, and he hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. He pulled back with a smile, tugging Anduin into a quick kiss.

"It's always easier when I can hear your voice," he admitted, because that was the truth; he didn't think he could have done it the second time without Anduin there with him.

He suddenly realized they were being stared at, and he blushed, clearing his throat awkwardly; most of the gawkers at least had the decency to pretend they weren't looking, then. Khadgar wasn't yet used to having an audience for these moments, so to speak, but when one of them was the King and the other the Guardian, it was nigh impossible to find moments truly alone. 

#

"I will be there with you by your side." That was an easy promise to make. It would take more than an army of Orcs to keep him from helping Khadgar when the moment came.

He returned Khadgar's kiss, thinking nothing of it until he followed the mage's gaze and subsequent blush around the courtyard. Anduin sent glares to anyone who didn't have the decency to already look embarrassed; that look from the Lion of Azeroth was enough to send most of them scuttling.

"I think you've just disappointed much of Stormwind," Anduin said with a half-grin. He wasn't unaware of the interest most people had in him; as a hero, as the Lion, and now as Regent. His look was entirely fond though as he met Khadgar's eyes.

He realized then that this was possibly the first kiss Khadgar had allowed in public. Or perhaps that wasn't entirely fair–he hadn't been especially forthcoming either.

"Do you care?" He asked, half–teasing, half–thoughtful.

#

"Do I care that they're gawking, or that I've deprived your admirers of you?" Khadgar asked, and then he smirked. "I guess it doesn't matter, since the answer to both is no."

Honestly, he hadn't even thought about it that way. Sure, Anduin was plenty attractive–but that hadn't really been on the forefront of his mind when the man had been throwing him down on a table and keeping him from casting. And definitely not when he was busy trying to make his case to the king.

But it made sense, that people would be infatuated with him. It had taken Khadgar a while, given the circumstances, but by that time they'd both seen each other at heir best and their worst.

The fact that they were still by each other's side, even after all that, meant a lot.

"Regent, Guardian?" a familiar voice said, and Khadgar turned to find Dion standing there–and next to him, Thelae. "You're needed at the docks. Immediately," Dion said, casting furtive glances at the Elf next to him. 

#

"Thelae!" Anduin shot a look toward Khadgar. "You're early, aren't you? It's good to see you either way." 

Thelae inclined her head to them both. "Regent, Guardian."

The Night Elf emissary was unreadable. The glowing eyes of her people were a definite advantage when dealing with other races–he wondered if their own people knew what to look for, or if the white light guarded their secrets even from each other. At least on a Human you could tell when someone was shifty or have some clue as to what they were thinking by looking at their pupils. 

If she were there though...either something terrible had happened at Darnassus, or the Gods were listening and sent help their way when they needed it most. It would be a blessing if they could be prepared to face Gul'dan earlier than expected, because he didn't want to give him any more of a chance to summon his demon than he already had. 

Though, selfishly, he wanted to delay the confrontation as long as possible. He couldn't shake the feeling they might be sending Khadgar to his demise, and he knew very well that if that happened, it would destroy him one way or another.

"What's this about, Dion?" He asked the guard as they followed them through the city at a brusque pace. 

#

"It's better if you see it for yourself, Regent," Dion said as they walked, his expression mostly hidden by the helmet. "But it is _good_ news, for once."

At the docks there was one Night Elven ship, but it was bigger than either that they'd taken. Night Elf soldiers were leading a large white nightsaber in royal armor off the ship onto the dock, and behind it–

Was Tyrande Whisperwind, in full royal battle gear, and behind her two Druids, one of them being a not–happy looking Jidris.

"Greetings, Regent. Guardian," she said with that voice that seemed inherently calming. "Though some of my advisors disagreed, I see this as enough of a threat to my home world that I feel I would be amiss as both a leader and a follower of Elune if I were not fighting by your side on the field of battle."

Khadgar couldn't help but grin–this was amazing news. If the High Priestess of Elune was on the battlefield with them, they would likely have Elune's favor–which could sway the tides of battle in the worst of times. 

"You have no idea how happy I am to hear that, High Priestess," he said, and she smiled at him with a smile that even reached those glowing eyes.

#

"Priestess!" Anduin all but ran foward to clasp her arm. She returned the embrace, ruler to ruler. He stared at her in elation. "Stormwind greets you with open arms. We are blessed to have your help."

Suddenly, his thoughts of a moment before seemed less bleak. With the High Priestess' aid, perhaps they would have a fighting chance after all. He cast a jubilant look toward Khadgar. 

"The Guardian has found something more with regard to this threat we face. Your arrival could not have come at a better time. Jidris," Anduin nodded to the Elf behind her. The druid inclined his head in a respectful bow. "Please, our guards will get your people and mounts settled in. Queen Taria will be delighted to meet you, and of course you will stay with us at the castle."

Tyrande was looking at him with a ghost of a smile. He wondered if he seemed ridiculous in his excitement, but he couldn't quite care. This was the first good news they'd had in far too long. 

He sent guards ahead to brief the Queen, and make the proper arrangements for her stay. 

#  


"What have you found, Guardian?" Tyrande asked once they'd started toward the castle. They had both Night Elf and human guards walking both ahead and behind at a respectful distance, keeping the gawkers at bay and giving the rulers a chance to talk.

"Fel lines. All over, underneath the ground," Khadgar said. "A massive network, nothing Gul'dan has the ability to power. The demon might, but...if this corruption goes as far as I fear, even that would be a long shot."

Tyrande frowned. "If I am correct, young Guardian...when you inherited your title, you inherited the abilities of those before you, did you not?"

Khadgar nodded. "Yes, but not all at once. I still have to learn to use what I've been given," he explained, but Tyrande's frown deepened.

"And if the demon could unlock that, were he to gain control of you...what then?" Tyrande asked, her voice grave. "I do not doubt your abilities. I know you have bested him before. But he obviously has his eye on you, and I fear it is for that reason exactly."

"I would have to fall to him first, and I don't plan to allow that," Khadgar said, shooting a knowing glance at Anduin. He just hoped they didn't have to use that contingency plan.

#

Anduin glared back at Khadgar. He did not like the impression that the mage felt _better_  having asked him to kill him if he was taken over by a demon again. 

"It will be our job to keep Gul'dan busy enough that it doesn't happen," Anduin said. He didn't care what plans Khadgar had for him. His role was to keep Khadgar safe, and he didn't feel remotely bad about it. Azeroth needed the Guardian just as much as Anduin needed Khadgar himself. 

"If you have any ideas of how to do that, we'd be all ears," he added. 

Pretending to have the upper hand in foreign relations only helped to a point; there came a time when ego had to fall before necessity. He respected this Darnassian ruler, and with her own connections to the world beyond the physical realm he hoped she would be able to help as more than just a fighter. 

"I tried to fight him before," Anduin admitted. "But I can't fight magic. Not head on. Not alone."

#  


Khadgar ignored the glare; he knew Anduin didn't like the plan B, but of course Khadgar didn't like it, either. They didn't have to like it, but they both had to be prepared for it. 

"I have an idea," Tyrande said. "I will send in my warriors with yours. We can attack from the north and then bring in another legion from the south, make it appear as if we're trying to flank them."

Khadgar thought back to the terrain around the portal, and then he understood. "But your Druids will be the actual flank, from the trees to the east, where they can hide easily in their forms. The Orcs won't be expecting Druids in the Eastern Kingdoms, they won't be prepared to mount a defense against beasts."

Tyrande smiled. "I could tell you are a smart one, young Guardian," she said. "That should be sufficient to keep their army busy and faltering while a small group of us spearheads through the melee to Gul'dan."

#

Anduin nodded his agreement with a sharp feeling of relief. Nevertheless, he was under no pretenses that this would be an easy fight; both of their sides would take heavy losses, in defeat or victory. Their peoples' deaths– _their_  deaths, if necessary–would not be in vain, though. This was an unavoidable fight if Azeroth was to survive. They could not allow evil to enter this world and remain there; they could not allow Gul'dan to continue killing his way through its inhabitants.

He watched the people of Stormwind as they passed through its streets; he knew many of their names, and those he didn't know, he passed often enough to at least know their faces and be recognized in return. He nodded his hellos in between their conversation as he could, and it warmed him to see that it meant something to his people to be acknowledged. They were who he would be fighting for. These people had no geas on them to serve the world as he and Khadgar had; they were only seeking to live their lives in peace. He wanted that for them. He wanted them to feel safe and protected in their own city, to care for each other and their families without greater worries than the bread on their table and shoes on their feet. 

He plucked an errant balloon out of the tree and handed it to an urchin who, it seemed, was always losing his wares. 

"I think you will be giving us the best chance we have at destroying this monster once and for all," Anduin said finally, as they neared the trade district. 

#

Khadgar couldn't help but be distracted by the way Anduin interacted with his people, even in the most dire of times. Some leaders might choose to pull away in times of strife, to show less of themselves, lest they be held responsible for the troubles; Anduin had no such qualms, and it showed.

"I do hope so. We nearly lost this world once to the Burning Legion; I will not allow it to happen again," Tyrande said, her voice firm and determined. "My forces should be arriving over the next ten days, and we will be prepared for battle."

Then, she smiled and gave Khadgar a wink. "And they have all been told that in my absence, they are to take their orders from King Lothar or the Guardian, and that you have my blessing to give commands as needed."

Jidris, walking behind them, muttered something to the Druid he was walking with; obviously he wasn't pleased with that turn of events.

"We were actually planning to hold a festival to raise spirits here in the city before we leave for the battle," Khadgar pointed out. "We would appreciate some input to allow your people to feel just as welcome here."

#

Tyrande and her entourage had been getting odd looks as they progressed to the castle; some were curious, others hostile, but most were afraid. 

Anduin nodded in gratitude to Khadgar for bringing up his earlier plan. "Our people have been left afraid of outsiders since the invasion. It's understandable, but unfortunate in a world as diverse as ours. We would like them to view your people as they are; friends and allies. I know it might seem a little thing when we have a war to fight and this influx of evil magic to repel, but I would rather not be fighting a subtler battle at home when we return."

He cast a look backward. He had not missed the grumbling of Tyrande's druids. 

"Perhaps Jidris would be willing to demonstrate druidic shapeshifting? I know many people have heard of it, but it's rare to see on these shores. I was also thinking a nightsaber demonstration. Any exchange of food and music of course would be well–received. It's a pity we don't have more time and better circumstances." He paused. "I understand of course if the effort can't be spared at this time. We're just grateful to have your people fighting by our side."

#

"No; it is a good idea. Some of my own people are ambivalent about working so closely with humans," Tyrande said with a nod. "Many have doubts simply due to inherent differences between us."

Khadgar smirked. "You mean they have hundreds of years of experience where humans have decades," he said, not even looking behind him; he knew Jidris had said something to that effect before the duel. He could just feel the glare on the back of his head–but Tyrande looked amused.

"Yes. Many of my people underestimate your kind. I think it would be good to come together in something that is not about war."

 "I would be interested in seeing what your magic can do that isn't intended as a weapon," Thelae suddenly spoke up from a few steps ahead where she walked beside Dion. "I think it would be good for our people to see magic for what it can be off the battlefield."

#

"Queen Taria can be excellent when it comes to bringing people together," Anduin said. "Thelae, as a diplomat, I would personally appreciate your help with planning this. And Dion," he added with a hint of a smirk, "Your input would be appreciated as well. To get the people's perspective."

He couldn't help the slight ribbing at Dion's expense, though he knew he'd more than made up for it by giving the man more time with their Night Elf friend. He hadn't missed the looks they'd been giving each other on their walk.

#

Khadgar gave Anduin an odd look; he'd been under the impression that Anduin wasn't all that fond of Dion, and that was a pretty big job to give him.

Nonetheless, Dion seemed eager to take it on. "Yes, Regent," he said. "I'll make sure to talk with the others in the royal guard and report back."

"I look forward to meeting your Queen. I have heard much about her," Tyrande said, and Khadgar smiled. 

"She's an amazing woman. Not all could handle the stress she's under," Khadgar said, entirely serious about that. Some days he didn't know how she managed everything with with such grace after losing so much.

He knew he wouldn't hold it together that well if he lost Anduin.

#

Anduin raised his eyebrows guilessly at Khadgar, catching his look of confusion. The mage was forgetting that he had been the one to assign Dion to Khadgar; he had hand-picked the man for the job. The other thing he was forgetting was how much he had teased Khadgar himself earlier in their relationship; he found it broke down barriers more easily and raised morale among the troops to look at their commander as someone they could joke with.

In addition, if the goal of the festivities was to make the people relax, what better way than to involve them in the planning, get them thinking about how they wanted to impress these outsiders?

"My sister is very much looking forward to meeting you," Anduin said with subtle emphasis.

#

It wasn't long before they were at the castle, and true to form, Taria was already waiting in her finest. And also true to form, the women hit it off immediately, and Khadgar and Anduin were left to their own devices as the women went to have their own talk. 

Dion and Thelae disappeared off to (supposedly) start to plan the festivities, leaving Anduin and Khadgar on their own once again–aside from the castle guard, anyway.

"Well, this bodes well," Khadgar said to Anduin with a bright smile. "She knows the Burning Legion probably better than anyone. We couldn't have anyone better fighting by our side on this one."

#  


Anduin pulled Khadgar to him, knocking their foreheads lightly together in relief. "This is the first day in what seems like a lifetime that things have gone mostly right," he said. "Thank the Light that Tyrande has come."

He hadn't realized how long it had been since he felt a true shard of hope; and at long last, there it was.

#

Khadgar smiled and pulled Anduin into a kiss, feeling hopeful for the first time in a long, long while.

"I think we can do this," he said, feeding off Anduin's optimism and Tyrande's steadfast strategy. 

Even if this was all they had to go on, they had a chance, at least.

The next few days were split between two very different things; half preparing for a battle, and half preparing for a festival. But it seemed the whole city was looking forward to it, and everyone seemed eager to spend one evening not worrying about war.

Taria insisted on Khadgar wearing something a little nicer for the festival, but Khadgar kept her from putting him in anything flashy; just a simple black tunic and pants, with silver embroidery on the collar and cuffs. He spent most of the hour before the festival in the empty castle courtyard, practicing the incantations for the fireworks that he'd been working on the past couple of days, but not actually casting the spells; that would be for later. 

#

Anduin did not manage to escape Taria's administrations either; he would have preferred to simply wear his armor, but Taria insisted that he should not be reminding his people of the war when they were supposed to be thinking of peace.  Llane had always enjoyed the finery that came with his station, but he had also been raised into his station. Anduin was uncomfortable in anything that seemed too dainty for combat.

His sister, though, had thought of that, which was how he found himself in fine leather embossed with lions and soft grey cloth embroidered with blue. It was obviously not meant for battle, but neither did it feel like a dressing gown.

Finally getting Taria's approval, and donning the crown befitting his title, he went in search of Khadgar, only to find him muttering to himself. Anduin spent a few moments admiring the mage, dressed up as he was, before clearing his throat.

#

Khadgar opened his eyes when he heard someone clear their throat, and he almost expected it to be Dion telling him it was time to head down to the festivities; he smiled when he saw it was Anduin, though.

Especially when he saw what Taria had convinced Anduin to wear.

"Well don't you clean up nice," he joked, standing up and brushing himself off with a sigh. "I don't know why I'm still practicing these. I think I'll be saying these incantations in my sleep for a month."

#

Anduin smiled a little sheepishly; he felt out of place in the royal raiment. "Look at you," he countered. He came over and took Khadgar's hands, turning him from side to side with a teasing look. "No one would ever guess you're a bookworm in this." He pressed a kiss to his mouth.

"And you're doing it because you are useless at telling my sister no," he grinned, not pointing out that the whole thing had been his idea to begin with.

#  


"And you're any better? As if this was your idea," Khadgar said with a laugh and a slight blush, looking pointedly at Anduin's own outfit. "None of us are any good at saying no to her. At least I convinced her not to go for a robe."

The fancy robes most people associated with mages reminded him far too much of the Kirin Tor. He had much simpler tastes that didn't involve standing out and restricting his movement. 

"I suppose you're here to tell me it's time to stop being antisocial," he said, squeezing Anduin's hands. He could already hear the music starting up, carried by the wind from the docks, where most of the festivities were centered; much more open space there than the trade district.

#

Anduin offered his arm; he wasn't decided if they should make this an official announcement by appearing together in that way, but it would do no harm to walk at least as far as the outskirts of the city. 

Stormwind itself was nearly empty as they made their way down the streets and over the small bridges spanning the canals. Anduin got an eerie sense as if it was portentous, his city being so devoid of life. On the other hand, though, he enjoyed the feeling that Khadgar and he had it to themselves, as if it were only them in that moment in all of Azeroth. He stroked Khadgar's fingers as they went, lost in his thoughts and wanting more contact with the mage. 

He parted from Khadgar as they reached the top of the steep flights of stairs that led down to the docks. Taria was there, along with Tyrande, overlooking the harbor and the festivities. 

"Anduin! Khadgar!" Taria beamed at them both. "This was a wonderful idea. Look, our people are mingling with one another. It seems like a good sign, does it not?"

Anduin looked down at the tents and the people milling in between them. Night Elves, humans, and Dwarves were mingling in the crowd. 

A horn sounded, announcing their arrival officially. Anduin and Taria stepped forward, Prince Varian and Princess Adariall by their mother's side. Tyrande stepped forward as well, though she hung back a step from the regent and the Queen. 

"People of Stormwind," Anduin called out. "And people of Darnassus. Thank you for joining us in this celebration of peace and the beginning of our alliance. May our peoples be each other's strength."

Tyrande called out her own announcement in Darnassian. The horn sounded a second time as the cheer went up from below. 

#

Khadgar enjoyed the last few moments of peace and quiet while he could as they made their way to the docks; he almost wanted to avoid the festivities altogether, and just spend the evening in the empty parts of the city, enjoying Anduin's company. But they were expected, of course; what would a party be without the king present?

And really, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of hope for more than the battle ahead when he saw how well things were going. He saw Night Elves, humans, and Dwarves all drinking together, taking part in the contests that the tradesmen were running–in fact, he was pretty sure that was Thelae standing near the archery contest, sliding a hand along one of the bows.

He let Anduin and Taria have the attention of the moment, staying a step behind as Anduin made his announcement, and Tyrande followed suit. At the second horn and the sound of the cheer, his eyes and hands lit up blue for the briefest of moments as he said a soft incantation, and the skies above the docks lit up with massive fireworks–one taking the shape of the golden Stormwind Lion, the other the purple seal of the city of Darnassus before they burst into sparks that trailed down and disappeared into the night sky.

He would have more, of course, to end the celebrations, but that was a decent way to kick things off, he thought.

#

Anduin grinned back at Khadgar, the light of the arcane a mirror to the fireworks in the sky. He wished that this could be all there was to it, a celebration of people and life, not a prelude to a bloody and deadly battle.

As it was, he was just happy to see Khadgar and Taria both looking lighthearted. 

He turned his attention to his sister, who beamed back at him.

Finally.

Another thing had gone right. 

 

 


	10. Tenth Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are my heart," he told Khadgar earnestly, holding him close. "I thought I had lost everything once, but even then, you were by my side. I do not know who I would be in this moment had you not come into my life."
> 
> In which Anduin dies a little.
> 
> This should be the final battle - but it's far from it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This the first time I've had in a very long time that I've had to work on transcribing and editing this monster! 
> 
> So sorry it's taken so long, but don't worry - I have yet to not finish posting a story, and I don't intend to start now. It just might take a while.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's stuck with this! <3
> 
> -GL

The festival went as well as could be expected. By the end of it, it seemed both sides were more comfortable with each other, at least; and though the tension got higher the closer the day of battle got, it seemed to only draw all sides closer together.

 

The morning that they were to set out, though, found Khadgar and Dion standing in the armory, Dion with his shoulders set and his gaze stubborn, and Khadgar looking equally stubborn–and irritated–with his arms crossed over his chest.

 

"No. I don't need it. I don't even think I could move in that stuff," Khadgar said, and Dion sighed.

 

"It's not even the metal armor. Look, it's the lightest leather armor we have," he said, and then he looked to the armored elf leaning against the wall nearby. "Thelae, tell him that even your archers wear some kind of armor in battles like this!"

 

Thelae snorted, studying the tip of one of her arrows. "I'm staying out of this one. You deal with the angry mage."

 

"I'm not wearing it," Khadgar said stubbornly.

 

"I'm not asking much. You can't go into the middle of a melee in _cloth_ ," Dion practically begged, but Khadgar just gave him a _look_.

 

"Yes I can."

 

Dion threw up his hands in frustration. "Mages, honestly!"

 

#

Anduin found Khadgar and his guard in a standoff when he finally got preparations for the battalion in order and was able to finally check on Khadgar.

 

The clanking of his armor preceded him, causing Dion to straighten and salute. Anduin set him at ease, nodding his hello to Thelae and smirking at the mage. He felt like anything but smiling, but there was nothing to be done for it. Since he couldn't demand Khadgar stay behind, he would have to do his best pretending his heart wasn't splitting just looking at the younger man.

 

However, what he could do was prevent Khadgar from fighting in cloth. It was a death sentence.

 

"You're not going into battle against Gul'Dan himself in that," he stated flatly. "He'll run you through like paper without having to do a whiff of magic."

 

#

Khadgar gave Anduin a look of pure betrayal, while Dion looked a bit smug. "You really think some leather is going to stop him?" Khadgar asked, very nearly pouting. "I need to be able to move freely to cast."

 

He'd never worn leather in battle before. He could see the use of it for the men swinging swords and going toe to toe with Orc warriors; but doing battle as a mage was different. You used your shields and knockbacks to keep things from getting close to you in the first place–and you had to be able to move _fast_ to cast those spells in time. He didn't see how armor of any kind would be anything but a hindrance.

 

"It's not like we're asking you to wear the full Stormwind guard suit of armor," Dion said, holding out the black leather chestplate with a silver lion's head embossed on the front. Khadgar looked between it, him, and Anduin, and then finally sighed.

 

"Fine. _Fine_ ," he said with a glare. If Anduin really thought he should...he would at least try. He took the first piece of the armor from Dion, studying the laces a bit helplessly. "How does this even work?"

 

#

Anduin smiled in relief. "It might not stop Gul'dan, but it might stop a claw or an Orc," he said mildly. He turned his grateful smile on Dion, and he really felt like they shared a moment, just then. 

 

He stepped forward and took the armor from Khadgar, ignoring the guard and the Night Elf in the corner. He slid it around Khadgar's arms and fitted it close to his chest. "Turn around," he murmured, and worked the laces through until the leather brigandine fit snugly around the mage's torso. 

 

He put his hands on Khadgar's shoulders. "Thank you," he said, his eyes conveying his sincerity. 

 

Dion looked like he could kiss him. 

 

"You still have your movement?" Anduin asked. 

 

#

Khadgar didn't really like the feeling of the restrictive leather around him, especially not pulled tight like that, but he had the feeling it would loosen up over time as they rode to the Dark Portal.

 

"It's...acceptable. For now," he mumbled, awkwardly running his fingers along the edge of the armor, and Dion was obviously holding back his laughter.

 

"Give it a chance. You'll adjust to it," he said, just as a stable hand approached them. "I suppose it would be too much to ask you to wear the bracers as well?" Dion continued, and Khadgar just gave him another look–one that said, ' _really_ '?

 

The stable hand cleared his throat lightly. "Regent, will you and the Guardian be riding your horses, or the Nightsabers?" he asked, and Khadgar looked to Anduin–he would let the warrior make that decision. 

 

#

"A Nightsaber for me," Anduin said immediately. "I want something with agility for this terrain. But it's more important to be comfortable on your mount; Khadgar, which do you choose?" 

 

He had no fear the well-trained animals would do all right side by side if the mage chose to stay in his comfort zone. He didn't want him falling off in the middle of battle.

 

#

Khadgar was more familiar with the horses, but he was also observant–he'd seen the way the two Nightsabers worked together, like one unit, especially after being brought to unfamiliar surroundings.

 

The two Nightsabers looked out for each other, and responded to each other's movements without coaxing. The horse would merely tolerate the Nightsaber. Having animals with a camaraderie was far more important in this kind of fight. 

 

"No sense in breaking up a good team. I'll take a Nightsaber as well," he said, and the stable hand nodded and went to prepare their mounts. Dion and Thelae were over by the swords now; it seemed Dion was insisting she carry one in addition to her boss and arrows.

 

"Are you ready for this?" Khadgar asked Anduin, looking at him with eyes that betrayed that strange mix of both youth and wisdom, courage and fear. He would be stupid to not be afraid, but at the same time, too much of that fear would make him weak to the fel.

 

It was a delicate balancing act, one he wasn't sure he would ever get right. 

 

#

"Yes," Anduin said simply. In full armor, with his back straight and his eyes fierce, he was every bit the Lion of Azeroth. He put his hands on Khadgar's shoulders and looked him steadily in the eyes. "And you are too, Khadgar. I'll stay near to you. You won't be alone. You can do this."

 

Khadgar wouldn't have been human if he didn't look at least a little afraid, but fear did not denote lack of character. It was being afraid and embracing it and doing what you needed to in the face of that fear that defined bravery. The even determination with which Khadgar met his gaze made him proud. 

 

"But I need you to promise me," Anduin said, "Do not get in between me and danger. You must not divide your attention between me and Gul'dan. Men and women are dying today because of this fight. They are counting on you to succeed. I can take care of myself."

 

#

Khadgar wanted to disagree. He wanted to be there for Anduin as much as Anduin planned to be there for him–ready to defend him, no matter what.

 

But Khadgar knew that once he was within reach of Gul'dan, everything would change. He would have to depend on those around him to shield him and keep the other dangers at bay while he focused on the two biggest threats: Gul'dan and the demon. He knew that Anduin was right; if he divided his attention, even for a few moments, that might be the moment of weakness Gul'dan needs to bring him down.

 

And if Khadgar fell today, all was lost. It was almost too heavy of a burden to bear.

 

He swallowed hard and nodded once. "I promise," he said, the words like broken glass on his tongue. "I won't let you down, Anduin."

 

He would have to take courage from Anduin, which wasn't hard, considering the very picture of courage he made. People didn't nickname him the 'Lion of Azeroth' for nothing.

 

#

 

Not caring that Dion and Thelae were there as witnesses, he reached out to cup Khadgar's cheek before pulling him close. "I'm proud of you," he said, hugging him tightly.

He wished there were a way he could take care of this threat by himself. Despite that, and he hated himself for it, but he trusted Khadgar on the battlefield more than he'd ever trusted his own son to survive. Callan had been too eager to prove himself, too anxious that he wasn't living up to Anduin's standards. He trusted Khadgar to do what he needed to for the greater good. They'd been through too much together for him to worry he wouldn't keep his promise.

It made something in his chest loosen and relax. It would make this fight easier if he could just concentrate on keeping them safe without second–guessing Khadgar's actions and motivations.

He leaned down and kissed Khadgar, again not caring about their audience. It wasn't like Thelae hadn't heard far worse on the boat as it was.

 

He stepped back and nodded at Khadgar. "We'll do this. You, I, Tyrande, the people fighting for our cause. We will be successful," he said.

Any doubts of his own had no place being voiced by a commander, not even to someone as close to him as Khadgar. People looked to him for hope, and he would give it to them.

#

Khadgar returned the kiss without hesitation, not for the first time hoping that this was the last time he would have to ride into battle next to Anduin. It was false hope, he knew that, but he was just so tired of war–he'd seen too much of it in too short a time. 

 

"I love you," he said softly as he pulled away, knowing that this was the last moment even remotely private that they would have in the coming days.

 

The stable hand returned, then, eyes widening as he realized what he was interrupting; he shifted his weight and cleared his throat. "Uh, Regent? Your mounts are prepared, and the armies are ready to ride."

 

#

Anduin squeezed Khadgar's arm. He had to know what he felt for him. He turned to the stable hand. "Thank you," he said, shooting the embarrassed man a smile. 

His kingdom was going to have to get used to Khadgar, and by extension, what he meant to him.

He nodded at Thelae and Dion. "We have a sorcerer to kill," he said with a sharp smile. "Let's make Stormwind proud today."

Taria was waiting for them with Varian and Adariall, ready to see them off. Anduin embraced her and each of the children before mounting his Nightsaber. He might be king, but this was not time to be so formal. "I love you," he told them.

"Don't say that yet," Taria said fiercely. "Tell me when you come back, Anduin." He nodded at her. She took the children to stand by the gates in her official capacity, in among the throngs who had been gathered to see them off.

Night Elves, tall and strong, their eyes glowing in the daylight rode astride their giant cats, mingled with the Stormwind troops in their shining silver armor. It was like the moon and the sun had convened to make up their battalion. It was balance, Anduin felt. With this sort of strength behind them, perhaps they would not fail that day.

Tyrande Whisperwind joined them on her magnificent Nightsaber, large and powerful, his armor covered in shining jewels. She looked like something out of a legend. Anduin grinned to see her.

"We fight for both our peoples today," he told her. "And once we've purged the source of this threat, my people will come and help you take back your lands."

Tyrande smiled fiercely at him and Khadgar both. "I believe in you, Guardian," she said. "You have our might surrounding you."

#

Khadgar tried to look confident and unafraid as they rode through the city, with him, Anduin, and Tyrande leading the way to the gates. He would never feel like he belonged up here with kings and high priestesses; but the gathered people were looking up to him as nearly their equal.

 

The last time the people had gathered like this, it was the last time they saw their king. And it was the last time they saw their Guardian, too. The thought made Khadgar shudder.

 

"I'll bring that warlock down, Tyrande. You have my word," Khadgar said, and she smiled–though there was a touch of sadness to her expression.

 

"Come then. It is a long ride, and my Druids are already on the move," Tyrande said, guiding her Nightsaber forward out the gates of the city, looking much like the goddess that she worshipped. Khadgar took a deep breath, and nudged his Nightsaber forward.

 

Tyrande was right; it was a long ride. It would take a day and a half to reach the Dark Portal, and Khadgar couldn't help but feel the dread build in him as they came closer and closer; even the soldiers were quiet in their ranks behind them.

 

#

They made their camp quietly and without fires a stone's throw from the Horde camp–far enough not to be heard or seen, but not far enough to avoid the stray scout. Miraculously, no calls went up, though, and between the druids of Tyrande's army, Khadgar, and the most skilled of Anduin's troops, they were able to keep the Orcs that stumbled on them contained.

They rose just before dawn with a whisper of armor and leather. Anduin looked over their armies. His heart swelled with pride that the people before him–humans and Night Elves alike–were willing to fight under his banner for Azeroth itself. Though many of them would die that die, their selflessness and heroism would be recorded in history. They were the reason that the Horde would fall. They were the reason Azeroth and its future generations would live free.

He took a moment to grasp Khadgar's elbows in his. His throat was tight with emotion as his eyes raked over Khadgar's features, taking in the earnest brown eyes, the rounded cheeks, the full lips beneath their dusting of mustache. His face was so familiar and so dear.

And he contained such power.

He nodded at Khadgar, unable to smile. "I have faith in you," he whispered.

#

Khadgar nodded back with a determined look. The unease was still there, but after a restless night of concentrating on every spell he thought he might need to use, he'd steadied himself against the coming storm.

 

It helped that nearly every soldier who crossed his path gave him a word of support or a simple hand on the shoulder. It was more support than the Mage was used to having, especially from the Night Elves. But all the soldiers here knew that everything hinged on the Guardian in this fight. 

 

"We can do this," he said, resisting the urge to just pull Anduin in for one more kiss. He didn't want to think it would be their last. 

 

Tyrande approached them, looking every inch the picture of a goddess of war. "My people are ready," she said, and Khadgar could see Thelae and Dion behind her, sharing a moment.

 

Somehow, he wasn't surprised.

 

#

Anduin followed Khadgar's gaze to Dion and Thelae, and turned back to Khadgar with a grin. He leaned forward. "For Mustard and the emissary and their bright future," he whispered in a voice too low for anyone else to hear. He winked, and straightened to clasp Tyrande's arm.

"Our armies are strong," Tyrande said. "We will make this fight meaningful. Our peoples' sacrifices will not be in vain. I believe in this cause, Anduin."

His eyes went sharply to her face. Her use of his name made him smile wider.

With one last grasp on Khadgar's arm, he leapt astride his black Nightsaber, giving her a scratch under her ears to feel her purr one last time before the battle. Their troops gathered in organized ranks, and they were gleaming and formidable as the sun rose above the trees.

Two scouts came back to him then, reporting that the Orcs did not seem aware of their activity and that Gul'dan, as always, was in his tent at the front, nearest to the portal. He thanked them and they took their places among their comrades.

 

He would give the battle cry when they were closer to the Horde. As it was, he raised the blue and gold banner high above his head and led the march forward until they were poised to break free from their cover.

They waited in the north; Tyrande's forces had spread out to the south, with her druids to the east, prepared to launch their unexpected assault upon the enemy camp.

#

Khadgar mounted his Nightsaber and guided it up next to Anduin's, his hands tight on the reins as he looked ahead.

 

"When our front line charges in, I can cast a flamestrike ahead of them," he said softly to Anduin. "It will weaken their front line before your men even fire their first rifle shots."

 

They had to use every advantage they had to minimize loss of life; with how strong the Orcs were, heavy casualties were guaranteed. Every man they could keep standing was another man going home to his family.

 

Dion was briefing the men behind them. "Remember, our priority is making a path for the Regent and the Guardian. We must protect them, at all costs," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

 

#

  
Anduin nodded at him. "Tyrande and I will keep them off of you while you do whatever you need to do." He and the Priestess exchanged an affirming look.

He hoisted the banner, the light sparkling along the lines of the lion emblazoned there. The air practically crackled with the pent-up energy of their forces.

He cast his voice, loud and sure, across the quiet, still air of the dawn. "FOR AZEROTH! FOR THE ALLIANCE!"

At the nudge of his heels, Takishna launched herself from her powerful hind legs.

His cat managed to take out one of the Orcs by herself, ripping open his throat with her sharp teeth, and Anduin sliced through the neck of his companion before he could even turn to face them. His sword dripped with green blood. Takishna sprung from the body as if it were any other rock, falling in line with her fellow Nightsaber, with Khadgar seated atop him. Anduin looked over and grinned.

Together they charged toward the Horde, their army close behind.

 

#

 

Khadgar urged his mount to follow, and they burst from the trees; it was only moments before he heard the deep sound of a war horn from the Orc camp. He could feel his heart beating somewhere in his throat as the Orcs began to spill out of the camp, weapons at the ready.

 

He'd fought Orcs before, by Anduin's side; he'd never been on the front lines of a massive battle. The biggest battle he'd been in was the skirmish in the canyon.

 

The soldiers on the front line had their guns at the ready, and Khadgar raised his hand, eyes glowing and runes sparking to life around his hands. " _Felo'malarn tanaralis_!" he shouted, and flames shot up from the ground in the front lines of the Orcs. Dozens of Orcs fell, shouting in pain as they tried to put out the flames, and then dozens more fell to the first rifle shots. 

 

Then the lines came together, and it was utter chaos. 

 

Khadgar's mount tore into the Orcs in front of him, and he held on tight with one hand and used an arcane blast to fire at the Orcs in front of Tyrande. It was practically a sea of Orcs in front of him, and he concentrated on the path ahead, using both fire and arcane magic to try and clear a path toward the portal. The smell of blood was already thick in the air, along with the smell of gunpowder.

 

#

Anduin used his mount to shield Khadgar as best he could as they progressed, Tyrande doing the same on the mage's other side. He was impressed by the levelheadedness Khadgar was demonstrating; he hadn't been involved in many small skirmishes, and this was overwhelming even for warriors who had been on a lifetime of tours. They were facing a full incursion with this Orc army, not just an isolated battle.

Shouts were coming up from the far front of the fight; the second wave of Alliance troops from the south had joined the fray. The Orcs were beginning to scatter their forces, pulled between the two fronts, many seemingly uncertain which was more important to head off. Finally it seemed as though they made the decision to focus on the south, closer to Gul'dan. It left an easier path of bodies to carve through for Khadgar and Anduin.

Around them, screams of people and animals alike cut through the air.

"Stay focused!" He called to Khadgar. "I'm still here beside you. We can do this together."

Suddenly, he was pulled from his mount and swung into the ground with enough force that his vision went white. He rolled to the side before he was skewered, but the Orc that had him just reached down to grip his head with one enormous paw.

Anduin struggled in the dirt. Finally he gained enough momentum to kick upward between the Orc's legs with a booted heel. The Orc roared, loosening his grip enough that Anduin could scrabble behind him.

Just as he raised his sword, Takishna sunk her vicious claws into the Orc's bare arms with a savage roar. His cat slashed her way through the now–lifeless body to press into his side long enough for him to jump astride once again.

Khadgar had gotten pushed away from him; he wove through the melee back to his side, fighting back panic. He could still see the mage fighting. He was all right.

He grinned at Khadgar through blood; red was now mingling with the green, but not enough to be worrisome.

"See? Good kitties," he called.

#

One second Anduin was calling out to him, and the next, the man was gone. Khadgar turned frantically, shouting Anduin's name, but it was near impossible to be heard over this melee, and equally difficult to see anything past eight foot tall Orcs. 

 

He was just about ready to try and lay down another flamestrike when Anduin was back beside him, _grinning_. 

 

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking at the bright red blood with concern, but Anduin didn't get a chance to answer before Tyrande was calling out for Khadgar. She pointed with her bow, and Khadgar followed the gesture and saw an opening in the line.

 

Just a few Orcs more, and there was a break for the portal. 

 

"Cover me!" he yelled to Anduin and Tyrande, and then he kicked his Nightsaber into motion. The cat tore through two more Orcs, Khadgar fire blasted one, and then his mount leapt over the last two and made a break for it, sprinting at the tent nearest the portal. 

 

Gul'dan had just stepped out, staff in hand, and Khadgar couldn't help but wonder if Garona was thick in the fight.

 

Khadgar saw Gul'dan casting, and he raised his hand to cast a shield, but too late to cover both himself and his mount. Gul'dan shifted his aim down, and the fel blast hit the Nightsaber full force, sending the big cat sprawling and Khadgar head over heels into the dirt. He landed hard and rolled to a stop on the rocky ground, his head spinning and pain shooting up his right leg from the rough landing. 

 

#

Anduin was there in a heartbeat, leaping from his mount and sending the cat to cover the side of Khadgar he couldn't protect. He was covered enough by the tangle of Orcs and Alliance fighters that the warlock wouldn't have seen him yet; he needed to stay hidden for as long as he could, keeping in mind the tactics Gul'dan had used against them in the past. He didn't want to become ammunition against Khadgar.  
  
Anduin grabbed a fallen spear and threw it at Gul'dan. The Orc managed to block it, but it diverted enough attention away from Khadgar that he could give the mage a chance to recover. He pulled Khadgar to his feet, but had to let go to block an attack from their left. Beyond them, he caught the flash of Tyrande's armored Nightsaber tearing through the Horde army. He felt Gul'dan's eyes roving the crowd sharply, and he couldn't help but think that the warlock could see straight through skin and armor to find them.

"Now!" He shouted at Khadgar. He ran through an Orc aiming for the mage's head, and whirled away to fend off still more pushing at them from the side.

 

#  


Khadgar gritted his teeth against the pain as he was pulled to his feet, but the pain quickly turned into a sharp ache; bruised, and not broken, then. Good.

 

He nodded to Anduin, stumbling as an Orc nearly landed on him as it toppled to the ground with an arrow in its head. 

 

_Gul'dan. The quicker he falls, the more people you save._

 

Khadgar ducked past the Orcs and finally into the open area in front of Gul'dan, his glowing hand outstretched and a spell on his tongue. 

 

" _Alan'kalarei!_ " he shouted, and a barrage of arcane missiles shot toward Gul'dan, though they only made him stumble as he knocked them away. Khadgar had planned for that, though, and he followed it up immediately with the incantation for flamestrike.

 

Flames leapt to life beneath Gul'dan–but they quickly turned green, and the Orc gathered the energy of the flames in his hands. He chuckled, and then fired then right back at Khadgar.

 

Khadgar barely got his shield up in time. The stream of fel flames battered at the shield relentlessly, and Khadgar's hands trembled and his boots dug into the dirt as he tried to keep them from breaking through. 

 

#

Anduin itched to attack Gul'dan, but it wasn't time for that, not yet. His role was to support and protect Khadgar. 

 

Tyrande, tough, apparently had no such qualms. With a roar she broke through to aim an attack directly at the warlock. It was unsuccessful, and she was forced to sprint away before his attention was fully centered on her, but it was enough to shake his concentration and make him drop his spell.

 

Gul'dan yelled in incoherent rage, and gathered more fel to him, obviously preparing for an even stronger strike.

 

#

Khadgar dropped his shield as Tyrande took the attention off him, and he began pulling energy to himself, from within and from the area around him, what little wasn't corrupted.

 

" _Gar'talan, t'as'e no talar_ ," he chanted, eyes glowing brighter as he focused on Gul'dan. " _Ihm tol na'lad, far anul ka gala'him_!"

 

He unleashed his attack at the same time Gul'dan focused his attack on Khadgar–and the fel split straight through the arcane, leaving Khadgar no time to shield before it hit him in the chest.

 

He went down as if a boulder had been dropped on him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and it felt like his chest was on fire. He coughed and curled up with a moan of agony where he lay on the ground, and when he opened his eyes, it was to the blurry sight of Gul'dan knocking away one of Tyrande's arrows as he walked toward the fallen Guardian.

 

_Get up. Get up!_ Khadgar told himself, and he tried to push himself up, but his arms gave out on him.

 

A few steps away, Gul'dan laughed. Khadgar didn't need a translator for that; Gul'dan was amused that Khadgar had even dared to challenge him at all.

 

#

"Khadgar! _No!"_ For a heartrending second Anduin felt as if his very soul had been ripped from him. But no; Khadgar curled up around himself in the next moment, and he could breathe again.

"Hold on! _"_ He screamed at him.

Anduin propelled himself forward, Takishna ripping through the few Orcs left between him and Gul'dan. He slid between the legs of the last one, cutting her down, and barely made it in time to get himself between Khadgar and the warlock. He slashed at him but Gul'dan parried once, twice with his staff before beating Anduin back a step.

"You!" Gul'dan screamed, in Common. The flash of rage was gone again behind an expression of twisted mirth. He said something in his own tongue, and it sounded foul. 

Tyrande launched another volley of arrows toward him, and it was the opening Anduin needed to stab at his heart. It almost– _almost–_ seemed like it would work, but too quickly they were knocked aside and his blow thwarted.

"Khadgar!" Anduin yelled. "Khadgar, you can do this. Get up!"

Gul'dan laughed again, a rasping, horrible sound from deep in his throat. Without warning, he shot a blast of magic toward Khadgar, and as Anduin tried to attack again, Gul'dan used his momentum to carry himself past Anduin's sword. The warlock gripped him around his shoulders, almost in a parody of a lover's embrace, holding Anduin's back closely to his chest. He whispered something in Anduin's ear, gripping him so tightly that he felt his armor begin to dent and pierce his flesh.

He struggled against the powerful hold, kicking and thrashing, but there was no relief. Gul'dan was laughing openly now, his stinking breath washing over Anduin's neck. Khadgar was still struggling on the ground; a sign that his earlier attack had only been a diversion.

Abruptly, there was a rumbling growl, and out of the corner of his eye he saw his Nightsaber come running for them. Gul'dan saw her too; a blast of magic left his fingertips and Anduin lost sight of her.

In order to cast the spell, though, Gul'dan had to release one arm from Anduin.  
  
Tyrande used the opening to press her attack as he bit and fought as best he could, but even one–handed Gul'dan's grasp was too firm to break. He wondered, briefly, why he was being kept alive, but that was obvious–he was being held as leverage against Khadgar, Gul'dan's true threat. Just as he had been before.  
  
Gul'dan's effort had left one of his arms free, and that was all he needed. He fumbled with his armor. Gul'dan's hold on him was weakening as his concentration was diverted more and more to the High Priestess. The warlock blasted several spells at Tyrande, and finally he got one of the straps on his chestplate free, enough that Gul'dan was only holding armor. For a brief moment he felt hope as Gul'dan dropped him.

It was short-lived. He spun to attack and was caught up again, more firmly this time than before.

But he'd achieved what he'd needed to.  
  
His chest was unprotected, his armor hanging uselessly off one shoulder.

Anduin closed his eyes, briefly, composing himself. He opened them again to see Khadgar. His eyes stung as they traveled over the mage, soaking in all he could one last time.

"For Azeroth!" He screamed. "For the Guardian!"

One-handed, he took his sword, Llane's sword, and ran it through his own chest until it lodged in Gul'dan's, their bodies almost one in his close embrace.

Gul'dan fell to his knees, and Anduin with him, linked through cold metal. The warlock was making incredulous, sickening noises in his ear.

 

Blood filled his lungs and sprayed forth as he coughed, rivulets streaming down his chin.

He'd done it.

 

Anduin's arms fell to his sides.

  
He'd done it.

_Forgive me, Khadgar._

The wheezing behind him stopped as he felt someone slice through Guldan's head, the tip of the sword just barely whispering across the back of his neck. His back became drenched with Orc blood, and it only brought his soul relief.

He fought against the grey film that was enveloping his eyes and mind. The screams around him sounded as if they were underwater.

_He'd done it._

_Light take me._

 

He tried to breathe, and choked.

_And died._

 

#

Khadgar fought to clear his vision and gather his energy when he saw Gul'dan grab hold of Anduin. He had to protect his friend–his King–his _lover_ –

 

"Anduin–" he choked out, managing to push up to his hands and knees as his vision finally cleared–

 

Just in time to look up and see Anduin drive his sword through his own chest and into Gul'dan's.

 

Khadgar felt like the world stopped moving around him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't see anything but Anduin's eyes as Gul'dan dropped him and stumbled back. Khadgar found the strength to catch him as he fell, one hand holding him partly upright, the other on his face.

 

"No no _no_ ," he pleaded, a sob choking the words. "No, Anduin, don't do this!"

 

No response. And there wouldn't be; Anduin's eyes were unfocused, unseeing, and Khadgar felt a rage rise up in him that he couldn't begin to control.

 

He laid Anduin down gently, eyes glowing a fierce blue as he looked up at the heavily wounded Gul'dan. He heard Tyrande call his name, but he didn't pay any attention–instead, he gathered up his energy, the air around him crackling with the arcane.

 

" _Dalei na'dalar tu an falah_!" he said, and arcane fire burst from his hands, engulfing the Orc in seconds.

 

The green glow faded from Gul'dan's eyes as he died–and then, they suddenly flared to life again. Black spikes grew and twisted from the Orc's back and horns from his head, and while the fighting seemed to recede around them as the demon emerged, Khadgar stood firm.

 

He no longer cared if he died trying to do this. He had nothing to lose.

 

"You've grown, little Guardian. You've gotten stronger," the demon said, the words like fire and brimstone from Gul'dan's twisted body. "But it is time now for you to lend your powers to the Legion."

 

"You'll have to kill me first," Khadgar said, the words coming out more as a dare than a threat. 

 

The demon smiled, and fired fel missiles at Khadgar. He didn't flinch as he used an arcane blast to deflect them, then sent his own pyroblast at the demon–to which the demon laughed.

 

"Yes, much stronger," he said, and then he reached out–and Khadgar felt as if a hand closed around his throat. He choked and reached up, trying to dislodge the invisible grip even as he felt the fel flood his body.

 

"Use your rage. With the fel, you will be stronger by leagues," the demon said as Khadgar struggled. He could sense the loss of hope around him, Tyrande trying desperately to get to him, Anduin's soldiers falling, distracted by the loss of their king–

 

Then, he could breathe, and everything went white.

 

He couldn't say he heard the voice that came to him–it was more like he was _feeling_ it, the words reverberating in his soul. He knew who it was immediately–it was Elune, reaching out to the Guardian of Azeroth, offering her aid. Not in combat, but in protection. In hope.

 

And Khadgar didn't hesitate to take her up on it, despite her warning that it may overwhelm him, because he could feel the fel trying to take him over. 

 

He felt the surge of power, pure white light that seemed to fill him and weave with the arcane in him. When he opened his eyes again, they glowed the white color of the Night Elves, and even brighter so.

 

With one gesture, he knocked the demon back and away; with a second, he shielded every soldier on the battlefield, filling them with the hope they needed to keep fighting back. The soldiers rallied, pushing back against the Orcs.

 

Then Khadgar reached down and drew the sword from Anduin's chest, placing his hand over the wound. There was a burst of blindingly white light as he drew energy from the arcane and from the healing powers of Elune to weave flesh and bone back together and breathe life back into the still form. 

 

"It is not your time," Khadgar said with a voice that wasn't entirely his own, and then he looked up to the demon, who was glaring.

 

"You will not win," the demon growled. "No matter where you draw your power from, you have already lost."

 

Khadgar didn't reply. He stepped forward and pressed a hand against the demon's chest, and the demon's skin began to crack, white light shining through.

 

"Go back to the nether, demon," Khadgar growled–but just before the demon shattered, he _smiled_.

 

And as the fel was expelled from him, Khadgar felt it surge into the ground below. 

 

He didn't have time for the horror of that to set in. As the demon died, the power rushed out of him and all the shields faded, and Khadgar reeled and dropped down to the ground, eyes flickering white to blue, then fading back to brown as he lay coughing and spasming in the dirt. He felt like every ounce of life had been sucked out of him, but at the same time, that the arcane walls keeping his new powers carefully separated from him until he was ready had been shattered.

 

#

Anduin had experienced his fair share of injuries and memory loss, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of perfect blankness that accompanied his abrupt thrust back into awareness. He writhed on the ground, shaking, unsure what had happened to cause him to be in so much confusion.

He cast his eyes about. Around him, there were bodies. Orcs, Humans, and Night Elves.

He closed his eyes, trying to gain his bearings.

"Easy," a woman's smooth voice said. "Easy. Sit up. We are not safe here. Our mission is accomplished; we must retreat."

_Retreat._

With his heart hammering in his chest, he opened his wild eyes again, focusing finally on the Elven High Priestess, Tyrande Whisperwind. Her grip was unrelenting on his elbow.

"Come," she insisted. "There will be time to remember later."

He drew in a shuddering breath. It felt like his lungs had scraped raw. He was a warrior, though; he had pushed through worse sensations than this. He tried to stand, and was appalled when his legs gave out on him. He shot her a helpless, panicked look and tried again, this time managing with her help to get to his feet.

"You'll ride with me," she said. "Bring him!" The last order was cast over his shoulder.

He tried to turn but suddenly he found the Alliance banner, bloodied but whole, shoved into his grip.

"You must hold this high," she said urgently. "Rally your troops. Do not let them falter."

She lifted him onto her Nightsaber, placing him in front of her. He didn't mind the indignity; he couldn't have managed on his own.

 

With trembling hands he raised the standard as far into the air as his weak grip would allow. Nodding at her, he cleared his throat and roared, "For the Alliance!"

It was like the battle stopped for a moment, every Orc and ally on the battlefield holding their breath.

Then chaos erupted. He heard a yell escalate across the battlefield. "For Lothar! For our King! For the Guardian!"

He managed a weak grin, then looked back to where Tyrande had sent her earlier command. He caught sight of Dion and Thelae, dirty and covered in blood but whole, lifting Khadgar's still form onto Dion's horse.

"Khadgar!" He shrieked.

Tyrande held him in place, one hand on his shoulder. "He lives!" She hissed. "He lives. Together you defeated Gul'dan, and the demon. Come. Lead your people, and I will lead mine." She called something out in Darnassian, her voice like a sword through the cacophony. Her people shouted something jubilant back at her, their voices coming from all sides.

The Nightsaber sprang forward, Dion's horse and Thelae's own cat falling in line.

#

Khadgar tried to get up, and failed as arcane energy surged through him. The air around him crackled with it, but he managed to get it under control just as Dion reached him.

 

"Stay with me, Guardian," the familiar voice said as Dion lifted him easily into armored arms, giving Khadgar the opportunity to focus on getting some shaky barriers put up in his mind. They wouldn't last, but they would at least give him the opportunity to get away from the field of battle without accidentally hurting anyone.

 

"A–Anduin...?" he choked out, and Dion shot him a tense smile, getting him onto the horse with Thelae's help.

 

"He is alive, somehow. I don't know what you did, but he is alive. Tyrande has him," Dion answered, and at that, Khadgar felt himself finally, finally give in. With the shaky arcane barriers in place and Anduin safe, Khadgar let the darkness take him.

 

He woke up again when the horse slowed to a stop. "Make camp here. It is safe," he heard Tyrande's distant voice say, and he opened his eyes with a groan as Dion got him down off the horse and into his arms.

 

#

Anduin spent the ride to camp in a haze, Tyrande holding him so he didn't topple from her mount. He kept his eyes on Khadgar the whole time, though, until finally they dismounted.

 

Tyrande stopped him from going to him, with a gentle reminder. "Your people," she said. "The Guardian is safe."

 

With one last look toward Khadgar he nodded. Thelae joined him to offer her physical support when he needed it, and together with Tyrande they made their way around the camp. 

 

To his surprise, the soldiers rose when he approached, holding out their hands to clasp his in seeming awe. The Night Elves bowed to him, murdering soft words in their tongue. He became increasingly unsettled as they went.

 

Finally, one brave soldier stood and spoke to him.

 

"I saw what you did," she said, her voice shocked. "You died. How do you live?"

 

"By the grace of Elune," Tyrande answered for him as he just stared, at a loss.

 

He couldn't remember.

 

Another soldier, however, saw his confusion and added, "The Guardian, sir. He saved us all. He saved you."

 

Tyrande took him back to where Khadgar was laying. He clasped Dion's hand, sharing his troubled look, and knelt by Khadgar. His hand hovered over him, unsure if he was awake, or injured, or if he should touch him.

 

#

The next time Khadgar opened his eyes, it was to find Anduin kneeling over him, one hand outstretched uncertainly.

 

There was no such uncertainty in Khadgar; he fought to sit up, then wrapped his arms around Anduin's neck in a tight hug.

 

"You were dead," he said, his voice just on this edge of frantic as Dion made his best attempt to get them a little privacy–which was pretty difficult when everyone had just seen the Guarfiam resurrect someone and vanquish a demon. "You died and I c–couldn't...Anduin..."

 

The air around them hummed with the unseen electricity of the arcane, but he kept it under control, his arms shaking with a mixture of both weakness and effort as he buried his face against Anduin's shoulder. All he could see when he closed his eyes was Anduin falling in front of him, a sword buried in his chest. 

 

#

Anduin bent over Khadgar so the mage wouldn't have to exert himself. He buried his face into the cloth at his neck.

 

"I don't remember," he admitted. "I remember running between you and Gul'dan when you fell, and being grabbed from behind, but everything after that is missing. Tyrande says it will come back to me once my body adjusts."

 

_To being alive_ went unspoken.

 

"Gul'dan is dead though?" He asked uncertainly. He thought he had seen the remains of the warlock, but everything after he had come to on the battlefield was a blur. He rubbed Khadgar's back. The mage was trembling in his arms. "Tyrande said we were successful. That you were successful."

 

#

Khadgar wanted to scold him, wanted to tell him to never do that again, ever–but now wasn't the time or the place, especially since Anduin didn't even remember what he'd done.

 

"Gul'dan and the demon...are both dead," Khadgar said softly, not relinquishing his grip. "But they've done something, Anduin. Something I...I _helped_ them do, just by killing them, I didn't...I didn't _know_..."

 

He felt like the fact that he'd essentially helped them power that network cancelled out any good he'd done in killing them. Granted, they would have found a power source eventually anyway, and if he'd lost they would have just used him to fuel it, but he felt like he'd accelerated things.

 

He felt like he was responsible for every death that was to come from this.

 

#

"Worry about that later, spell–chucker," Anduin said tiredly. He gave in to his lingering exhaustion and sat down–kneeling was beginning to hurt his back. 

 

His arms tightened around Khadgar. He turned his face into his cheek. "So I died, but we won," he said, a hint of humor in his voice. It was lost completely though as he added, _"How am I not still dead?"_  

 

He was in shock, he reflected. His mind kept flitting from _not remembering_  to the battle to Gul'dan to Khadgar. He felt something like static electricity humming around them as well; it was new and worrying enough that he felt it should be addressed, but he didn't know what to ask. 

 

#

Khadgar pulled back a little to look at Anduin, cupping his face in one hand, studying him as if it were the first and last time. One part of him told him Anduin was going to think he was crazy, however stupid that sounded.

 

"Elune offered me her aid. She helped me shield our soldiers, helped me push back the enemy so I could kill him," he said softly, and then he smiled, just a hint of a smile as he rubbed his thumb across Anduin's cheek. "She helped me resurrect you."

 

He'd known he could, from the moment that power flooded his veins. And sure, now there was the problem of it breaking down all those walls put in place when he became Guardian, but he could fix that. He just had to make sure that he kept the temporarily walls in place, at least until they got back to Stormwind and he could research an alternative.

 

 Hopefully, that wouldn't take long–and then he could focus on shutting down that fel network.

 

#

"Elune," Anduin echoed. "You were blessed by a goddess." He smiled softly at Khadgar, leaning into the touch on his cheek. 

 

He closed his eyes. He had a feeling like it was going to take some time to come to terms with what Khadgar was telling him. He knew it to be true–missing memories were one thing, but he felt like he had somehow been given a second chance. 

 

"You have saved Azeroth again, Khadgar," he said, opening his eyes to look at his face. He'd never seen the mage's eyes look like that before. It was like he had some new knowledge burning within him. It was like he had never seen Anduin before, and like he could see into his very soul. "And thank you for saving my life."

 

He just wished he could _remember._

 

#

"I was protecting Azeroth. Elune and I just shared the same goal, for the moment," Khadgar said softly with an amused huff. He didn't feel like it was a blessing–was it?–Elune just knew that the fight was leaning toward the side that would destroy the world she loved, and Khadgar was in a position to do something about it.

 

Why she'd let him use her powers to resurrect Anduin...he didn't care to know. He knew she could have stopped him if she didn't agree with what he'd done, but he'd felt nothing but the warmth of hope and acceptance in every action he took.

 

"I feel like...I've saved Azeroth in one way, and doomed it in another, Anduin," he muttered, pausing with a shudder to draw some of the arcane energy back out of the air around them, corralling it behind the walls he'd created before it became too palpable. "You are absolutely not allowed to die again, you know that?"

 

#

"It sounds like I wasn't dead for very long," Anduin pointed out with the ghost of a smirk. 

 

Saying the words though just felt odd.

 

"But I'll take your desires into consideration," he added.

 

He had to close his eyes again. He assumed the weakness would pass, but he couldn't remember the last time he felt that bone–tired. 

 

"We'll talk about what you think you've done," Anduin said, returning his gaze to Khadgar's eyes. "But...please, Khadgar. Later. Not now. Not when we've won this victory. Gul'dan is dead because of you."

 

#

Khadgar nodded, dropping one hand down to press against Anduin's chest, where the sword had run him through. "I...I can't watch you die again," he said softly. "You don't know what that did to me."

 

He remembered the vicious surge of arcane energy that he seemed to pull from nowhere. He remembered losing sight of anything except killing those responsible.

 

And he remembered daring the demon to kill him–and hoping that he would.

 

Dion and Thelae appeared then, both carrying bowls of the broth and meat that some of the soldiers had hunted.

 

"Here," Dion said, handing one each to Khadgar and Anduin. "Eat, please. You both need your strength."

 

Khadgar reluctantly sat back from Anduin and took the bowl, though he quickly found that he was famished after everything that had happened; he probably finished off the bowl in record time.

 

#

Anduin followed Khadgar's gaze to his chest; his jerkin had a blood–soaked gash in the middle of it. That explained some of it, he supposed. He wanted to ask Khadgar what had happened, but somehow he felt like he needed to remember on his own.

 

"I have some idea," He countered. "You looked pretty dead yourself when I..." He trailed off. 'Woke' wasn't the right word. 

 

He nodded his thanks to Dion, but put the bowl aside. He still felt as though his insides were raw. He was glad to see Khadgar had a healthy appetite.

 

#

Khadgar smiled, barely. "Not dead. It's just...a shock, having all of that power shoved into your head, then having it yanked out again," he explained with a half-hearted shrug. It had felt like someone scraped him clean on the inside, like he was nothing but a shell, at least for nodded a short time afterward. His own arcane powers were nothing compared to that of a goddess, after all.

 

He didn't mention the side effects. There was no need to burden Anduin with that knowledge right now, not when Khadgar had things under control. 

 

He noticed Anduin wasn't eating, but he didn't say anything about it; he figured Anduin must not feel like eating, after everything he'd been through today. "When you remember what happened," Khadgar said, giving Anduin a look, "Remind me to be mad at you."

 

It was said with equal parts humor and equal parts seriousness. After all, wasn't much sense in chewing Anduin out for something he didn't remember doing.

 

#

Anduin nodded to Khadgar, but the truth was he had no idea what the mage had been through. Being infused with the power of a goddess was incomprehensible to him.

 

Khadgar kept giving him worried looks, so he ended up picking the bowl of broth up and attempted to eat. He drank the liquid. Despite feeling odd, he found that there was no pain.

 

"Why should you be mad at me?" He asked, bewildered.  "It's not like I meant to die, spell-chucker."

  
#

Khadgar took in a sharp breath and closed his eyes for a few moments.

 

_Yes, you did._

 

He practically tossed the bowl aside, suddenly losing his appetite; he could feel the air around him crackling with energy, and if he got mad, he would have more trouble controlling it while he was so tired. Instead, he got up and walked away, ignoring the admiring and confused looks alike from soldiers as he passed them–including one who reached out to touch his arm, and got the equivalent of a nasty carpet shock for his troubles.

 

Khadgar made his way into the trees at the edge of camp, just far enough that he couldn't be seen, and then he dropped down against a tree and buried his face in his hands, trying to take deep breaths. Instead, the breaths came halting and unsteady, his eyes stinging with tears.

 

_Because of me. He would have been dead, and it would be my fault. Because I wasn't strong enough._

#

 

Perplexed, Anduin stared after Khadgar's suddenly retreating back, wide-eyed. 

 

"What did I say?" He called over to Dion.

 

"Wasn't listening, sir," the astute guard replied. 

 

Anduin pushed to his feet. He wanted nothing more than to sleep so he could begin to feel like himself again, preferably with his arms full of Khadgar, but the mage had run off. Irritated, he wove his way through camp, asking the soldiers who looked at him with a sort of reverence for direction as to where he'd gone. It seemed to improve their moods to see him, so his efforts at least weren't for nothing, whether or not Khadgar would be happy to see him. 

 

_But what had he done?_ He asked himself again, a little piteously. 

 

He reached the edge of the trees but couldn't see any sign of him. "Spell-chucker," he called out. "Khadgar. I don't know what I've done." He huffed out an exasperated breath. "I'm too tired to search for you. Just tell me where you are."

 

#

Khadgar tried to draw the energy back into himself, but it was a futile effort right now, when he was so worked up. He stubbornly wiped away tears only to have more take their place; he hated crying, hated it, but every time he thought of Anduin in front of him, his eyes going dim–

 

He shook his head as if to try and clear the image from it. It didn't work.

 

He heard Anduin call out for him, and for a moment, he felt bad–Anduin didn't even know. He didn't know why Khadgar was upset, didn't know what he'd done to try and keep Khadgar in the fight; it wasn't fair to be like this to him, but it wasn't as if he could help it right now. He was under pressure from every direction–magically, emotionally, and physically. It was hard to revel in the victory when he was just trying to hold himself together.

 

"Over here," he called back, his voice shakier than he meant it to be. He tried again to draw back the energy in the air around him, but it was useless; he drew his knees up toward his chest and set his forehead against them, listening as Anduin's footsteps drew closer.

 

#

Finally Anduin found him, following that scrap of a sentence until he chose the right tree to look behind. He braced himself on the trunk and lowered himself to the ground next to Khadgar. The mage seemed to be lost right then, with his forehead pressed to his knees, and he hated seeing him like that. Not after all he'd done. Not after they'd achieved what they'd set out to do. 

 

He didn't care if Khadgar was mad at him or not, he wrapped his arm around his shoulders and pulled him into his chest. He wasn't sure what to say to get Khadgar to pull out of the depression he was in, so he just offered his presence.

 

He reached up with his other hand in the silence and scratched his beard, and was surprised when his nails came away with flakes of blood. 

 

He was beginning to see exactly why Khadgar was so disturbed. While Khadgar's head was still turned away from him, he began trying to rub off the mess that was apparently on his face. Even he was unsettled by the grime he discovered there. He must have looked like a demon himself walking through camp. It was a wonder his soldiers had only looked to him with adoration and not fear. 

 

The picture of what had happened was becoming clearer in his mind, but he still couldn't recall the actual memories to himself. Someone must have run him through, but based on Tyrande's statements he knew that what he'd done had helped them win the battle.

 

"I made you promise not to protect me," Anduin reminded Khadgar.

 

#

Khadgar wanted to be angry. He wanted to demand to know what Anduin was thinking when he did that, why he would even think it was worth it–

 

But of course it was worth it to Anduin. He saved his people. Gave Khadgar a chance when otherwise, he would've been paralyzed with fear of losing Anduin if he acted against Gul'dan.

 

He knew why. He wanted to be mad, wanted so much right now, and it was all he could do not to fall apart at the memory of Anduin dying in his arms.

 

He let himself collapse against Anduin's chest, his whole body trembling with the sobs that he couldn't hold back anymore. "I'm s-sorry," he choked out through the tears, the fingers of one hand clenching on Anduin's shirt, the fabric still stiff with his blood. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't...I wasn't strong enough. You wouldn't have had to do it if...if I _just_ –"

 

He'd made that promise. He had. But he never thought that his own weakness would be the entire reason Anduin ended up lifeless in his arms. In his own eyes, he'd failed in every way conceivable; he'd nearly lost Anduin, and they hadn't won yet. Not by a long shot. Today was supposed to be the end of this war, not the beginning of a new one.

 

"I dared him to kill me. After," he said, the words weak, nearly a whisper, even as arcane energy danced across his skin like invisible lightning. "I _wanted_ to die."

 

#

Anduin kissed the top of Khadgar's head, rocking him much like he had Callan when he was small. He was overwhelmed with the depth of sadness radiating from the mage. He understood, of course; not only would he be reacting the same way if Khadgar had died, but the memories of his own losses were not so long ago. 

 

"You _were_  strong enough," Anduin pointed out. "Show me anyone else who has been granted the power of Elune. Show me anyone else who could have resurrected me." The last words were acid on his tongue, as if part of him could still not reconcile the truth of what had happened. It could be heard in his voice, the disbelief and the shock, despite his supportive words.

 

"I'm alive now," he said fiercely. 

 

He ran his hand over Khadgar's head, threading his fingers through his hair and repeating the gesture in soothing motions. 

 

His grip on Khadgar's shoulders tightened at his last words. "I taunted the demon in Medivh's tower much the same way," Anduin reminded him. "I told him I had nothing left to lose, and in that moment, I meant it. But if he had taken me I would not have had you. Do not ever think all hope is lost, Khadgar. Don't let yourself believe that again."

 

#

The words were some measure of comfort, at least, even if Khadgar couldn't bring himself to entirely believe them; maybe with time, looking back on this, he might see that he'd done the best he could, given the situation. 

 

But right now, he didn't feel that way at all.

 

He remembered overhearing some of what Anduin had said to Medivh in that tower, remembered wondering if it was just a taunt, and hoping it was; but deep inside, he'd known it hadn't been. Anduin had lost so much–

 

–and he'd made it through, somehow. Khadgar could only hope he had the same strength.

 

He leaned into the comforting touch, the sobs slowly fading as he exhausted himself further; the last time he'd cried like this was watching Medivh slowly die after coming back to them, knowing that the Guardian was himself when he passed. He stubbornly wiped away the tears with his sleeve, only to feel a new wave of anguish when he saw that his own sleeves were soaked with Anduin's blood, long since dried into the fabric.

 

"I'm sorry," he said again, though this time there was a broken laugh with the words as he continued to lean into the comforting touches to his scalp. "I'm...I'm such a wreck right now."

 

It was good he'd gotten out of the camp before this happened; the soldiers were mourning their losses and celebrating their victory. They didn't need to see their Guardian having a breakdown. 

 

#

"There's no one here to see you but me," Anduin reassured him. "There's no shame in feeling as you do. You fought bravely. You did what no one else on Azeroth would be able to do. You're shouldering the burdens of a world but you don't have to do this alone, Khadgar. Tyrande came to us. Elune herself came to us. There are powers in this world greater than the evil you're focusing on."

 

He leaned his cheek into Khadgar's head, watching the leaves rustle in the gentle breeze. 

 

He shook his head ruefully, feeling Khadgar's hair scrape against his skin. "What I wouldn't give for a bath."

 

#

Khadgar couldn't help it; he laughed at that, the sound breaking through the tears. "Agreed," he said with a sigh, finally lifting his head. "I would say we should go down to the river to clean up, but I doubt that would be smart when we're still this close to the portal."

 

Once he got some sleep, cleaned up, and the memories faded a bit, he was sure he could make stronger barriers in his mind to contain the overflow of the arcane. As it was, he shifted against Anduin, and the energy sparked between them, shocking them both–not painfully, but enough to startle.

 

"Sorry," he muttered, closing his eyes and focusing for a moment, pulling back on the energy. He managed to get it under control this time, now that his emotions were less intense, and the energy in the air around them faded once again.

#

 

Anduin smiled back at Khadgar, relieved at least he could coax a chuckle from him, but then he yelped. Something fizzed across his body, and it seemed to originate from the mage.

 

"What was that?" Anduin blinked down at Khadgar, who seemed very much aware and unconcerned about the sudden jolt that ran over his skin. 

 

He pushed himself into a more upright position so he could examine Khadgar more thoroughly. It didn't help, there was nothing he could see either on the mage or in the air around them. 

 

#

Khadgar ducked his head a little. "Just left over from the power influx. Nothing to worry about," he insisted, because the last thing he wanted to do right now was worry Anduin.

Anduin had just _died_. He shouldn't have to worry about anything for a long time, if the world was fair.

 

"I've got it under control," he added, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 

 

#

Anduin narrowed his eyes, but there wasn't anything there for him to argue about. He didn't know enough about the arcane, and if Khadgar seemed to think it wasn't something to be concerned with, he didn't know how to tell him he was wrong. 

 

Of course, he still felt like he should. The mage was rarely forthcoming when it came to his own magic and the risks it posed. 

 

As it was, he let out a long–suffering sigh, just to get his point across. 

 

"I still feel like I should ask what you're mad at me about," Anduin said. "But I'm also not sure if I should allow myself to remember in my own time. Tyrande seems confident my memory will return."

 

He eyed Khadgar, looking for clues. 

 

#

Khadgar's face fell and he looked away, his heart seeming to dip in his chest at the thought. 

 

"I guess it'll only bother you endlessly until you remember. You...may as well know," he said, and then he paused, obviously trying to think of a way to explain this. He knew it would drive Anduin mad not to know, and there was no telling when–or even if–he would remember. After all, he'd died and been brought back–that had to do a number on the short term memory.

 

"You–" Khadgar started, and then he had to stop and clear his throat, clenching his jaw against the threat of tears. He didn't have any strength left even for crying anymore. "Gul'dan had you pinned. You...ran yourself through to impale him on your sword."

 

He couldn't forget–wouldn't ever forget–that moment when he looked up and saw Anduin with the sword run through him, blood soaking rapidly through his shirt, blue eyes distant. He already knew he would never get rid of the nightmares of holding onto him, trying to convince himself it was a trick, a bad dream, something. Anything but the truth.

 

#

"Ah," Anduin said, settling back against the tree. He opened his arms and gathered Khadgar to him.

 

That...did sound like something he might do, if things got that bad and there were no other options. 

 

He knew it might be insensitive to Khadgar's feelings of guilt and loss, but he couldn't help himself. He grinned ferally, pulling his lips back to bare his teeth. "I finally bested him, then," he said. If dying while killing someone else could really be called 'besting', of course, but that was beside the point. The warlock could never have guessed he would have been willing to sacrifice that much, and that would be because he hadn't loved someone as strongly as Anduin did. 

 

"I remember you had fallen to the ground," Anduin said, his expression softening. "I remember thinking you were dead, or dying, and if you weren't, Gul'dan was going to use me against you. That must have been the only choice I had left. I do not want to die, Khadgar. I am glad to be alive now to hold you. For what it's worth, I am sorry for causing you pain."

 

Not sorry he had done it, of course. But he was sorry he had made Khadgar hurt this badly. 

 

He fingered the tear in his clothes distractedly, willing his memory to return. 

 

#

Khadgar gave Anduin a _look_ and smacked him on the shoulder. "Don't you _grin_ about that," he snapped half-heartedly, because of course Anduin would be proud of getting the best of Gul'dan, even if it took his own death to do it.

 

He lifted a hand to his own chest, remembering where the fel bolt had struck him, and he felt only the slightest pain at the touch; most of it must have healed with the influx of power from Elune. "Your people need you. _I_ need you," he said, lifting his head to pull Anduin into a kiss. "Give me a chance next time to find another way, any other way, before you decide to go to extremes. I won't always have a goddess willing to step in to help bring you back to me," he pointed out. And maybe it was selfish, telling Anduin to put off the extreme measures, but Khadgar had so very little happiness in his life lately.

 

He didn't think he could be blamed for wanting to hold on to what little he did have. 

 

He cuddled back up close to Anduin and closed his eyes; he was so tired, he felt like it would take a monumental effort to even move. "I love you," he said softly, the words coming out tired and _raw_.

 

#

"I'll be able to argue better when I can remember," Anduin said with a small laugh, but his eyes were troubled when they looked down at the top of Khadgar's head. He wished he could promise him that, that he would never do such a thing again. But as much as he could remember told him that what he had done had saved Khadgar's life, and he would never hesitate if it came down to that.

 

"You are my heart," he told Khadgar earnestly, holding him close. "I thought I had lost everything once, but even then, you were by my side. I do not know who I would be in this moment had you not come into my life."

 

#

Khadgar couldn't help the warm feeling that rushed through him at Anduin's words. No one had ever said things like that to him; his parents had been reasonably affectionate, but that had lessened as he started to show his aptitude for magic.

 

He likened it to not getting attached to an injured animal you found, because you knew you wouldn't have it much longer. Perhaps a bit extreme, but it seemed the best way to describe it, still–his parents knew they would be sending him off to the Kirin Tor, so they saw little reason to shower him with affection. 

 

And then the Kirin Tor. He'd had friends in Dalaran, but not many, and none who would profess anything more than friendship, of course.

 

Having someone here who was willing to give their life for him...it was something he'd never had before. Something he didn't want to lose. 

 

He didn't feel like anything he said would be able to communicate how he felt then; so instead, he lifted his head to kiss Anduin, the kiss tired but deep. He only pulled away when he heard footsteps nearby, and he looked toward the sound in time to see Thelae step out from the trees.

 

"The sun is setting. The sentries have their assignments for the night, and your bedrolls are laid out near the fire," she said softly, not seeming fazed by the scene she walked in on. "You should come back to camp and get some sleep. It won't be safe out here soon."

 

#

Anduin nodded at her; he was used to military camps. He stood, holding himself against the tree for support, and mustered his strength enough to hep Khadgar to his feet.

 

"Thank you," he told Thelae as they walked back to camp together. "I saw what you and Dion did on the field. You were protecting the Guardian."

 

Thelae inclined her head. She smiled at him. "It was our role, but please know I count you both as friends. It was my honor to fight by your side today."

 

Anduin smiled back at her. 

 

Most of the party except for those who took first watch had settled into their camps; it warmed Anduin's heart to see so many still alive. He had expected a greater massacre than this. He hadn't known what he had been leading his people into; the last time Stormwind had faced the Horde Llane had been cut down and his forces decimated. 

 

Perhaps now he could pretend his friend had received justice.

 

He wondered where Garona had been during the battle. Had she left, knowing what was to come? Simply fought elsewhere on the field, so they would not have to fight one another? Did she fight her own kind, or had she truly chosen a side? 

 

He hoped that now, in Gul'dan's absence, perhaps she would become their leader and make a future for them both that did not include this senseless war. He could not see her embracing anyone that used the fel to lead her people. 

 

But the Orcs who were infected...what of them? Would they still follow her? Did they even still have the power of the fel, after what Khadgar had done?

 

"Regent," Thelae said gently. "We're here."

 

He realized that he had been standing by his bedroll looking blankly at the fire for several long moments. He shook his head and thanked her again, laying down as Khadgar did the same. 

 

However, despite his exhaustion running bone–deep, he found himself with his eyes wide open, staring at the stars through the trees. 

 

_Elune,_  he thought. _Thank you._

 

But it wasn't all he felt toward the goddess in that moment. 

 

Every time he drifted toward sleep, he shot awake again, as if his body were finally remembering closing its eyes and not being able to open them.

 

_You don't fear death,_  he told himself fiercely. _You chose it. It was honorable. Sleep._

 

His body ran cold with the thought, though, so he settled for looking between Khadgar and the night as he passed his time. 

 

#

It took a long time for Khadgar to fall asleep, and when he did, it was anything but restful. He tossed and turned, and when his sleep finally deepened, it was into a nightmare.

 

_The fel lines beneath them lit up bright green, and no matter how Khadgar tried to fight it, he felt it pulling at him. It was like a choking, poisonous smoke, and he couldn't escape its grip–and when he cried out for Elune, there was no answer._

 

_"Struggle, young Guardian. You've lost, and you know it," the demon's voice said, and Khadgar looked up to find the demon standing over him in Gul'dan's body, holding onto a struggling Anduin. The scene was familiar–too familiar._

 

_"No, no, Anduin, don't–"_

 

_This time, though, the demon ran Anduin through on a fel spike before he could act. Khadgar watched in horror as the light faded from Anduin's eyes, and he gasped against the fel smoke, pulling from within, the shaky walls crumbling._

 

"Shala'r–"

 

Jerking awake, he barely managed to stop the incantation from leaving his lips–but all the same, the ground below their area of the camp lit up with the arcane. Khadgar fought to aim it downwards, into the ground, safely away from the soldiers, and a low tone tore through the air as he forced the power down into the dirt instead of upwards at the unsuspecting, startled soldiers.

 

He could feel the air crackling around him with energy, at near dangerous levels, could feel his hands and eyes glowing brightly, and he struggled to his hands and knees, desperately trying to put the barriers back in place. 

 

#

Anduin's eyes had just drifted closed when suddenly they were seared by a bright flash. He shot fully awake in time to hear Khadgar begin to cast. It only took him a heartbeat to realize the camp was safe, and like before at the castle it had been a nightmare that forced the magic from Khadgar's lips.

He scrambled over to where the mage was struggling on the ground. As he watched the magic slowly receded, but not without a disturbing buzzing sound filling his ears. He grabbed Khadgar's bicep, not minding the shocks of electricity that ran up his arm.

"Khadgar!" He said. "Khadgar. It's all right. We're safe."

He glanced around, looking for help. Thelae and Dion were sitting on their heels nearby, watching them with worried expressions.

"You two," he said. "Go around camp. Make sure the soldiers on both sides know we are safe and that this won't harm them. You can tell them if you must that the power Elune granted our mage still runs through him, but this is nothing to be concerned about."

He didn't care if it were true, he only cared that his men weren't afraid of the Guardian after all he had done.

"Khadgar, look at me," he said more gently.

#

Khadgar gasped harshly for air that was thankfully not thick with fel smoke, and he twitched in shock as he felt someone grab onto him–though the surprise vanished when he heard Anduin's voice.

 

Anduin would never be scared of him; of course he wouldn't hesitate to leap in.

 

He had to get this under control, or Anduin would have reason to be scared. He concentrated on the sound of Anduin's voice, looking up with eyes that still glowed bright with the arcane.

 

"Anduin–" he managed, and then he shuddered again as he struggled to get the barriers back in place.

 

Tyrande appeared and knelt next to them, her eyes bright with concern. "Regent, is everything alright?" she asked, kneeling on the other side of Khadgar.

 

#

Anduin looked up in relief to hear Tyrande come up beside them. Pitching his voice only for her ears he said, "The Guardian has been having trouble controlling the arcane since the fight. Earlier, we were just sitting, and I could feel it. Like the electricity before a storm in the air."

A tremor ran through Khadgar's body. He ran his hand over his back. Whatever the mage was doing seemed to be working, but when he said his name he sounded like he was only a shred away from losing control.

"Tell me how to help you," he said to Khadgar.

#

Tyrande reached out, placing her hand on Khadgar's forehead, and a soft white glow came over both of them. " _Ishnu dalar, fala'–anan tar_ ," she said softly.

 

Khadgar felt a wave of calm come over him, a less intense version of the warmth he'd felt when Elune leant him her abilities. It gave him the few moments he needed to get those temporary barriers back in place, and the air around him slowly calmed as he slumped against Anduin, exhausted.

 

"M'sorry," he said softly, trying to catch his breath, and Tyrande stroked a hand through his hair.

 

"Sleep, Khadgar," she said, following it up with a soft incantation–and Khadgar's eyes fluttered shut as he dropped back into sleep. Tyrande looked back up at Anduin with a sympathetic smile.

 

"He'll sleep soundly till we're ready to move again," she said, the smile fading a bit. "I had feared that would happen, when I realized that Elune had lent him her powers."

 

#

Anduin, though grateful, hated Tyrande a little bit in that moment for being able to help Khadgar when he could not. Her gentleness sent a wave of guilt rushing through him though and he inclined his head in a seated bow. "Thank you," he told her.

His eyes were wide as he stared at Khadgar, now appearing peaceful as he slept. "What is happening, Priestess?" He asked.

"The powers Elune lent the Guardian unlocked the barriers he has to keep the arcane in place. He's lost an element of his control over his magic. He will get it back in time, but for now it is likely overwhelming him."

Anduin nodded like he could pretend he understood what he was talking about. His hands clenched the fabric on his knees. It seemed they could never catch a break between them.

"You should sleep too," the Priestess told him with a knowing look. "It will help."

He gave her a pointed enough look that she didn't try to use a spell on him, too, however. She moved away and Anduin settled beside Khadgar to watch over him as he slept, just in case he woke again and needed him.

Sometime during the night exhaustion finally overtook him, and it was a minor miracle he hadn't fallen into the embers of their fire. When he woke his head was on Khadgar's legs, and his back had a sharp pain running through it from sleeping curled up on the ground, rather than on his bedroll. Glancing around, embarrassed, he found the only person watching them was Dion. The guard nodded to him as he woke.

"Good morning, my lord. I've packed up what I could of your things," he called over to Anduin.

"Thank you," he said, pushing up into a sitting position and running a hand through his hair. It was still matted with blood, and only some of it was red. He felt along his neck and realized his entire back was covered in Orc blood.

_Still, he could not remember._ But Khadgar had said that he had run himself through to kill Gul'dan, which meant this was the warlock's blood that encrusted his skin. He hoped that the fel was not in it. 

 

He sent a quick, uncomfortable smile to Dion and went to relieve himself in the trees. When he returned, more of the camp was stirring. He caught two of the soldiers nearest to him and sent them around the camp to send out the orders to prepare to move out before returning to Khadgar. He put a hand on his arm and gave him a gentle shake.

"Wake, spell–chucker," he said softly.

 

#

Khadgar stirred from sleep slowly; it seemed harder to wake up than usual, and at first, he couldn't figure out why.

 

Then he remembered–the nightmare. His loss of control. Tyrande.

 

He forced his eyes open and immediately saw Anduin, and he blinked a few times, turning his head to look out at the camp. All the soldiers seemed busy packing things up, getting ready for the rest of the trip back to Stormwind.

 

"I...didn't hurt anyone, did I?" he asked with a sense of dread, checking to make sure the temporary barriers were still firmly in place. None of the soldiers seemed worried, but he couldn't help but imagine the worst. 

 

#

Anduin cradled Khadgar's cheek in his palm, and he gave him a reassuring smile. "No. Everything is fine," he said.

Everything, of course, seemed far from fine, but right then Khadgar needed reassurance, not more concerns.

"We're heading home," he said with a truer smile. "Taria will be glad to see us both–" he'd almost said "alive" but he was dreading someone telling her what had happened.

How could he tell her what he didn't remember?

"Unless you'd rather sleep the day away," he finished, ribbing Khadgar lightly. "I can see the appeal." He glanced around wryly at the uncomfortable ground and gave a pointed look to the direction of the encampment of Orcs in the distance. "Nice vacation spot," he said.

#

Khadgar slowly sat up, following Anduin's gaze back toward the Orc camp. He shuddered. "No thank you," he muttered, suddenly eager to get moving. 

 

He wondered briefly why Anduin hadn't asked him about what happened last night, but at the same time, if he could avoid the subject, he'd definitely do so. He wasn't sure what he was going to do next time he needed to sleep, though; he couldn't risk that happening again.

 

He also dreaded explaining to both Anduin and Taria exactly why this hadn't been entirely a victory for them.

 

Dion stepped up to them with a tight smile. "Regent, Guardian; both of your mounts were injured in the battle yesterday. They'll recover with time, but they shouldn't take riders on the trip back," he explained. "I've prepared two horses for you instead."

 

Khadgar nodded; he felt bad that his Nightsaber was hurt, but at least it would recover. 

 

#

Anduin visibly brightened. He had thought both cats were lost and it had been a source of sorrow for him since the battle yesterday. He hadn't wanted to bring the animals from Darnassus only to kill them in battle.

 

"Thank you, Dion," he said, a note of happiness in his voice.

"Get ready to head out," he told Khadgar. "I need to make rounds."

He left Khadgar to prepare with Dion and headed out around the camp. Feeling more energetic than he had the night before, he passed along his congratulations and thanks as he made his way around to check on his troops. He supposed after he had rubbed most of the blood off his mouth he made a better picture as more people seemed willing to greet him with smiles instead of just wary awe.

Everyone, it seemed, was glad he was still alive. He supposed it shouldn't touch him as much as it did, but nonetheless he was gratified that whatever sacrifice he had made had been meaningful to his people. It was one thing to know a city needed a ruler, and another to see first hand how your death could affect the morale of an entire army. He'd seen it and felt it with Llane, of course. He would and had followed the man to the ends of the earth. But they had been friends since childhood. That type of loyalty was personal. He barely knew most of the people he spoke with. They weren't men and women who had served under him in battle before–they weren't comrades who had shared their lives with him.

For the first time, he felt like he had truly earned their respect as their king.

He made jokes as he went, boosting their moods where he could. By the time he had made his way back to Khadgar, he was smiling, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

_Who chose who lived and who died; who remained dead and who was resurrected?_ If this power existed in the world, why only him?

"Ready to go?" He asked Khadgar.

 

#

By the time Anduin got back, Dion had convinced Khadgar to put on the leather armor for the rest of the ride home, in case they were ambushed. Khadgar stood by his horse, wondering whose it had been–the only reason these horses wouldn't already have riders is if they were dead.

 

He'd avoided meeting the eyes of most people in the camp; whether or not he'd hurt anyone, he was sure he'd at least scared them, after they just gotten out of a huge battle. He couldn't help but feel bad about that. 

 

He managed a smile, though, when he saw Anduin return. "Ready," he said, putting one foot in the stirrup and pulling himself up into the saddle.

 

"Let's hope for an uneventful ride home," he said, wanting to just get back to Stormwind as quickly as possible; he had so much work to do that it made his head spin just thinking about it. 

 

#

Anduin smiled gratefully at Dion when he saw Khadgar actually wearing protective gear instead of just his cloth garments. They mounted their horses and thankfully, Khadgar got his wish–the ride was uneventful. The only excitement came from the people in the homesteads and towns they traveled through as they were greeted with cheers and thanks when they heard the news of the battle.

He wished that they had managed to beat the Orcs back to their homeworld entirely, but that was a problem they would have to deal with permanently, it seemed. They had a new race on Azeroth. He didn't know what that meant for their future as a people, but he knew the war between them was far from over.

However, with any luck, that would be all it was–a war. A simple conflict, not this ongoing struggle against demonic invasion. A warrior like him could only do so much, and though Khadgar would try to take it on, one solitary Guardian could not keep up that sort of fight on their own.

He spoke with Tyrande as they traveled, planning how to coordinate their forces on Kalimdor. It was agreed that in two weeks' time Stormwind would send forces to her shores, and the next pushback against the Orcs would begin. It was unclear yet whether he would go–he had not forgotten Khadgar's warning, that whatever he had done might have unleashed a new threat upon Azeroth. They would have much to talk about.

When they finally reached the city, Anduin hoisted the Alliance banner again, letting the people know they returned victorious. A cry went up from the guards, followed by the clanging of the bells.

#

Khadgar kept silent as they walked, his horse half a length behind and to the side of Anduin's and Tyrande's mounts for most of the trip. The soldiers gave him his space; it seemed most thought he was still struggling with the powers leant to him on the battlefield.

 

If only they knew.

 

He couldn't help but smile, though, as Anduin raised the Alliance banner high as they went through the gates of the city. These people had suffered so much heartache, so much defeat...Khadgar wasn't about to take that away from them. 

 

And ever since Medivh, Khadgar had wondered if a Guardian would have such a warm welcome ever again to the city of Stormwind; he was glad to have, at least for now, restored their faith in their protectors.

 

When they reached the castle, Taria was waiting outside with the children; the second Anduin had dismounted, she pulled him into a tight hug.

 

"Anduin, I was so worried," she said as Khadgar jumped down from his mount. He didn't even get a chance to fully turn around before Taria was hugging him as well.

 

"Khadgar," she said happily, rubbing his back before pulling away. "I take it the news is good, then?"

 

#

Anduin grinned at her. "Gul'dan is defeated. With the help of the High Priestess, and the Night Elves, our allies, and Khadgar's incredible power." His eyes swept over the other man with warmth. "We have an amazing story to tell you, Taria, of how we won this battle, but it far too long for the streets of Stormwind."

He wondered how long he could keep the truth of it from her–as Queen, though, she was more sheltered from the city than he was as commander, and unless Khadgar relayed the news he wasn't sure how she would find out. He disliked the idea of having to defend himself without his recollection of what had happened.

Tyrande stepped up beside him. Her look was sharp as her glowing eyes passed over his face.

_I died, and am alive,_ he thought desperately. _I died, and was resurrected, but not Llane. Llane fell and is dead. What makes that distinction? How am I worthy but not my king?_

_But not my son?_

 

He didn't know how to justify his survival to his own sister. Not when her husband remained fallen.

He could not tell her what had happened. He would not.

 

Taria had turned to Tyrande to thank her profusely for what she had done. She caught his eyes on her face and turned back.

 

"We will have a feast!" Taria's eyes were shining. "It has been far too long since I have heard news that good. Oh, Anduin," her eyes held tears, and he was sure they were of happiness.

"It will be a long war against the Orcs that remain," he cautioned her gruffly. "They cannot go back to their homeland. We have a new race on Azeroth."

"Later," she chided him, linking arms with Khadgar.

#

Khadgar loved the idea of being able to relax, and revel in the victory they'd had; but all he could think about was the fact that they'd had one victory, and one setback. A major one.

 

That, and he wasn't sure how much he trusted himself right now.

 

"With all due respect, your highness, I have research that desperately needs attending to after the battle," he said, squeezing her arm and giving her a slight bow. "Don't delay your festivities on my behalf. This is...very urgent."

 

He gave Anduin a weak smile before turning to go, desperate to get to the library and get to work. He might even need to revisit Karazhan's library for this; he needed to figure out how to rebuild the walls that were put into place in every new Guardian, he needed to figure out a way to keep from losing control in his sleep–

 

–and of course, he needed to figure out how to shut down the network of fel lines before rifts started to open to the nether. If demons started spilling through into their world, they would be fighting a war on two fronts. 

 

#

"It will be planned for tomorrow, of course," Taria said, her tone brooking no arguments. "You have just fought a battle, Guardian. Surely two hours of your time to relax and celebrate your success will not delay your research. It will make the people fear you less if you take part in the festivities. Too often Medivh isolated himself after the need for his abilities had passed. The similarities should not be too much."

Anduin just raised an eyebrow at Taria. She wasn't wrong, but she also didn't know about Khadgar's current problems with the arcane.

"We'll be by later," he promised her. "We can talk then."

She touched his face, running a hand through his beard. As she looked more closely at him. a frown creased her forehead. "Go get cleaned up," she said simply. "And welcome home."

"I love you," he told her quietly.

He fell in step beside Khadgar as the mage turned to leave.

#

Khadgar wasn't sure he would be able to tear himself away from his work to go, but he didn't tell her that; he would just have to insist if he thought the situation was too dangerous.

 

Sometimes, a Guardian had good reason to be isolated.

 

_That's probably what Medivh thought, too. Before._

 

"We both need to clean up," he said to Anduin, keeping his gaze aimed downward, hoping to avoid the serious discussions he knew they needed to have, just for a little longer. "I can conjure you some hot water, if you want."

 

#

"See? I knew you'd be useful for something," Anduin laughed, clapping him gently on the back. He left his hand in the middle of it, half–following, half–guiding Khadgar away from the crowds with one last grin at Taria and Tyrande.

They went to their room at the castle. He was unwilling to sit down on anything of his own while he was covered in that much grime and so he leaned back on the wall to observe Khadgar.

"So what is it?" He asked. "Tyrande told me you are having problems controlling the arcane. That Elune broke down your control. But you mentioned something else to me, and I want to know why you aren't happier about finally killing that monster."

#

Khadgar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. Well, it couldn't be avoided forever.

 

"You remember the barriers that Tyrande and I were talking about before leaving Stormwind? The ones that are automatically put up in the mind of a new Guardian, so they aren't overwhelmed by the power of the past Guardians?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Elune's power destroyed those barriers. I've managed to make due with temporary measures, but...it's not ideal. I need to find out how the barriers are done in the first place, so I can replace them. It's...difficult to maintain control like this."

 

He looked down at his hands, his shoulders slumping. "The demon knew we might win. The fel network I found...it was his contingency plan," he explained, his voice soft, almost ashamed. "When he died, both his and Gul'dan's powers flooded that network. At any time, we could start seeing rifts open to the nether. Anywhere."

 

He should have seen it coming. He should have known that the demon wouldn't have Gul'dan extend such a network without an idea in mind as to how to fuel it.

 

He should have known.

 

#

Anduin took in the information stoically, and let his head fall back against the wall.

He was exhausted, he realized. They just kept fighting, and every step forward that they took it was two steps back.

They had told him he had died. That he had given his life to this war. So he'd been brought back–by Khadgar, by Elune, he hadn't yet asked who made that decision–and so this was his purpose. To keep fighting indefinitely like some beserker's form of the afterlife. He would fight though, of course–that was what he felt he was made for, to protect this world as best he could.

But he was _tired._

And he knew the new Guardian was. It was too much to ask of one person, to do what Khadgar was doing by himself, but he couldn't help him and he didn't know that anyone else would be able to either.

"Just tell me how I can help," he said, with his eyes closed. "I will be by your side as you do this."

#

Khadgar knew how Anduin was feeling–overwhelmed, exhausted to the bone, and somewhat hopeless.

 

Khadgar tried so hard to protect what he loved, but every time, it seemed he was set back. Some Guardian he was.

 

"I've...been thinking," he said, not meeting Anduin's eyes as he spoke, and his voice oddly flat. "Perhaps I should use a pair of manacles from the barracks to create a pair of binding cuffs, to wear while I sleep. At least until I figure out the barriers."

 

He looked up at Anduin, finally, his expression one of concern. "I don't want to lose control while I'm sleeping and hurt you, Anduin."

 

The idea of wearing binding cuffs every night all night was nearly sickening, but worse was the idea of accidentally hurting Anduin because he couldn't keep control. 

 

#

Anduin's eyes when they opened again to meet Khadgar's were sad. "I'm not afraid of you, spell-chucker," he said quietly.

He didn't know what he could say other than that; if Khadgar truly thought he needed to torture himself at night in order to keep his magic under control, Anduin didn't know what he could do to assure him it wasn't necessary. He'd seen the damage Khadgar had done before in his sleep. He wasn't afraid for himself–he was living on borrowed time, after all–but he was concerned for the neighboring rooms and anyone who happened to be in the hallway if Khadgar lost control.

He drew in a breath, his tone falsely upbeat. "Should a king draw his own water?" He threw a smirk at Khadgar and pushed off the wall, coming to stand in front of him in order to place a hand on his shoulder.

#

_You're not afraid of me, but I am._

 

Khadgar didn't say it. Instead, he stood up and leaned in, kissing Anduin lightly. "You've always had such faith in me," he said with a smile. He still had worries, but somehow Anduin managed to make him feel like everything would be okay.

 

He stepped past Anduin to the attached washroom and said a quick incantation, and the basin filled with hot water. He turned back to Anduin and tugged him into another kiss, because right now, he just felt like he needed the closeness.

 

"I'm going to go clean up in my old room, then I'll be in the library if you need me," he said, dreading the research he had to do for once–mainly because he was under immense pressure to get it done fast. 

 

#

"Get a guard to find me if you need me," Anduin said, his eyes troubled as they followed Khadgar out the door.

He wasted no time in stripping down, peeling his boots off first– _and how did he get Orc blood inside those?_ –then every layer of armor, leather, and cloth. It was entirely infused with dried blood, green and maroon mingling in crusty solidarity. He had never had a week stomach for the grittier parts of war, but for some reason looking at this made him nauseous.

He folded the clothes as best he could and put them in a corner to be dealt with later, then entered the hot water with all–encompassing relief. He submerged his head in the basin, and scrubbed every inch of himself with soap until he turned pink and the water was a putrid brown from the mingling grime.

His chest was bizarrely unmarked, except for the old, familiar battle scars he wore. His hand trailed over the opening between bone in the center of it, to the side of his heart. He knew he had to have stabbed himself there–he couldn't have hit his heart or he wouldn't have survived to stab through to Gul'dan. But like his memories, his body too was a blank slate.

Gratitude and wonder of course were present. There had been times in his life where dying might have been a blessing, but this was not one of them. However he couldn't help but question what he had done to deserve it. Death was often arbitrary and never fair, so why had he been spared?

His earlier thought came at him, sharp as an arrow– _Why not Llane? Why not Callan?_ Why not the pure?

He climbed out of the stinking water, feeling better at least in body. He dressed in his civilian clothes, welcoming the soft fabric after the hot press of metal and constraining leather. After a moment's deliberation, standing uselessly in the center of his room, he went to find a guard, sending her to tell Taria that he was taking the afternoon for himself.

He wasn't of use to Khadgar, and the feeling of blank _otherness_ was not dulling on its own.

  
He went to the cellars, finding three bottles of mead.

Then he went to the Stormwind Cemetery to apologize to the dead.

 

 

 


	11. Eleventh Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys get drunk and Khadgar has some problems with his magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays, everyone!

At first, Anduin thought Llane was calling him. That was how deep in thought he was. Startling, it took him a moment to place the familiar voice as Khadgar's.

He sat opposite his son's grave, having moved on from his king's hours before. It was peaceful in the cemetery–there was no one there at that time of night, and it was close enough to the harbor that he could smell the saltwater on the air. He was halfway through his third bottle of alcohol by that point, and he honestly wasn't sure he wanted Khadgar around to see him that drunk. The mage had his own problems to deal with, and they were larger and more complex than simple grief and survivor's guilt.

 _And the void,_ came the unbidden thought. The feeling that he had escaped something inescapable.

Bits and pieces had started to come back to him–and they were not complicated in the least. There had been no heroic battle, only a simple decision to take the option given to him as he looked at Khadgar seemingly dying on the ground. He didn't regret it. But he had chosen to die, and as far as he knew, Llane had not, and his son, bright, promising Callan, had not. The ones whose choice it was to live should have been granted this grace. Not him.

He didn't even know really how Khadgar had found him. Guilt caught up to him, though, enough for him to force himself to call out after far too long a pause. The mage had been researching how to save himself and the world, and Anduin had only been looking for ghosts.

"Over here, spell-chucker," he called, his voice slurred.

With the logic of the truly drunk, he stuffed two of the bottles behind the gravestone he sat against. It wasn't that he was ashamed– _perhaps he was_ –but he didn't want Khadgar to worry. Not after what the mage had done for him.

He rubbed his face on his sleeve, just in case there was any lingering wetness to be found there.

#

Khadgar was immediately concerned when he heard Anduin–but as he got closer to the voice and saw the figure slumped against the gravestone, he realized that Anduin had been drinking.

If he remembered what Taria said, Anduin used the alcohol to try and fix problems–and it usually made them worse. But after the days they'd had, he couldn't really blame him for wanting to escape into a bottle, or pay his respects to his loved ones.

He slowed as he walked up to Aanduin, eyes flickering to the gravestone across from where he sat. 'Callan Lothar' was engraved carefully on the stone, and Khadgar felt a pang of guilt–that he'd been unable to help that day, when Anduin lost his only son.

"You're a hard man to find sometimes," he said softly, sitting down in the grass cross-legged next to Anduin.

#

"I had not expected you to leave that library for a week," Anduin gave a short laugh. "Thought I would have to find you when the time came. Otherwise you'd forget to feed yourself and I'd have another–"

He couldn't complete his joke. It wasn't funny, not really.

He looked at the bottle resting on his drawn-up knees, then glanced sideways at Khadgar. "Not that I was, but you're a hard man to hide _from._ Who did you have to bribe?"

#

Khadgar paused, then realized–Anduin wasn't far off from the truth. Khadgar had completely forgotten to eat today. Somehow, it wasn't a surprise.

He actually smirked at the question, though. "Anduin...are you too drunk to remember the rumors going around about what happens to Stormwind guards who try and stop me from doing something?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and reaching over to take the bottle.

He looked it over curiously, and then mentally shrugged and took a swig from it–and nearly choked.

"How do you _drink_ that?!" he asked between coughs, looking at the bottle with disgust.

#

Anduin grinned at him. "Why am I not surprised you haven't had a drink before?" He took the bottle back from Khadgar, taking another deep gulp. "And practice, my friend. Practice."

He held it between his knees, swishing what was left of the liquid back and forth. He blinked blearily at Callan's grave. It was as silent as his own memories of the afterlife. He could remember dying, now, but what came after was just a grey nothingness. He had a feeling that he would never recall that to himself.

Or maybe that was all there was, after. Maybe the talk of the Light and honor and an everlasting haven were just stories after all.

He hoped it brought peace, either way, but he wished that Callan were back in this messy, painful realm with him. It had not been his time. It had not been his time, and yet Elune or the Light or whatever else more powerful than they were that existed did not help him.

#

Khadgar frowned at the bottle as if it had personally offended him. "Mind altering substances make it harder to focus and cast spells," he pointed out. "You can imagine the Kirin Tor wasn't exactly encouraging us to imbibe."

He couldn't say he wasn't tempted right now, though, no matter what it tasted like. But at the same time, Anduin needed someone sober to watch over him, and Khadgar couldn't imagine the disappointed look Taria would give him if they both ended up drunk tonight. 

He glanced over at Callan's gravestone and swallowed hard. "Think you've had enough 'practice' for tonight? It's getting late," he said, knowing that the guards would get more nervous the longer they were both gone. 

#

Anduin gave Khadgar another painful grin. "It can come with us," he pointed out, standing unsteadily and only staying upright through–again–practice. He felt badly enough about littering and desecrating a sacred place to try and grab the other two bottles from behind the graves, and that unfortunately was a bad decision. He tipped forward, catching himself just barely on cold marble before retrieving his mess.

He hung on the grave, for a moment feeling like it was a perfectly acceptable place to spend the night, before getting himself upright again. He stared at the path that led back into the city, and glanced once more at his son's resting place.

Lost to his own thoughts, he spoke quietly, "I love you."

#

Khadgar sighed and took two of the bottles from Anduin, holding them by the necks in one hand as he wrapped his other arm around Anduin's waist to hold him steady.

"Come on, let's get you back," he said, more to himself than to Anduin, who probably wouldn't remember much of this in the morning anyway.

He steered the unsteady regent toward the exit of the cemetery, wondering if it was just the most recent battle and revelations that led Anduin to this, or if Khadgar was missing something. 

#

Anduin clung to Khadgar, his realness a comfort after so many hours feeling completely alone. 

He forced them to stop, though, with a hand on Khadgar's chest before they got too far away. He met his eyes, searching them for an answer with unfocused intensity. 

"Did I tell him I was sorry?" He asked earnestly. 

#

Khadgar's brow furrowed in confusion. He could only assume he was talking about Callan–that was who he'd been talking to, Khadgar thought, anyway.

But Khadgar could only assume that Anduin had told Callan he was sorry in a thousand different ways for not being able to save him that day; he knew Anduin felt guilty about being trapped on the wrong side of that barrier. Khadgar wondered if maybe, if he'd been down there with Anduin, if he might have been able to break through the shield himself.

But it couldn't be helped now.

"I'm sure you did," he insisted, tossing the two empty bottles into a nearby trash barrel so he could have both hands free to guide Anduin. "Come on, it's going to rain soon. We should get inside."

#

"Right," Anduin nodded, mollified.

 _I'm sorry it was me,_ he thought _. I'm sorry it was me and not you that got given this second chance, son._

He let himself be led through the city.

"It does not matter, though, does it?" He asked. "If I'm sorry.  I didn't ask for this."

He shook his head, but his attempt to clear his thoughts only made him dizzy.

"Tell me what you found today, bookworm," he said with sudden, boisterous energy, attempting to appear sober and very much achieving the opposite.

#

Khadgar gave him another even more confused look. "Didn't ask for what?" he asked, suddenly dreading the answer. 

What if Anduin hated Khadgar from bringing him back?

The thought hadn't even occurred to him, and the guilt hit him so suddenly that he nearly stumbled. What if he'd made a horrible, selfish mistake?

His throat tight, he took far too long answering Anduin's question. "I...didn't find anything," he muttered miserably. "Nothing of use."

#

Anduin was too drunk to catch his question, but still perceptive enough to catch the shift in mood. He mistook it for simple frustration over lack of results, however.

He patted Khadgar's arm. "You'll find a way," he said. "You always do." He laughed. "You brought me back from the very afterlife, Khadgar. You can perform miracles." 

He stopped walking, turning to him with sudden seriousness. "Have I thanked you for that?"

#

"Technically, it wasn't just me," Khadgar said, though probably soft enough that Anduin didn't hear it. He skidded to a stop, though, when Anduin suddenly stopped and turned to him.

"You don't have to thank me," he pointed out, because that much was true. Now he wasn't even sure if Anduin had wanted to be brought back–didn't people speak their mind when they were drunk?

So why was he _thanking_ him for it, then?

Khadgar didn't know what to think. He looked away, his expression distressed as he ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "I'm sorry," he finally blurted, wishing that the inebriation were contagious so he could use that as an excuse. "I'm sorry if you...you didn't get a chance to choose, I know you didn't _ask_ for it, I just..."

 _I was selfish_ , he thought, but figured that much was obvious.

#

The subtleties of what Khadgar was saying were too much for Anduin. He squinted at him, confused.

"Did I say something?" He asked, off-kilter from Khadgar's mood swings.

He gripped his elbows, trying to convey his sincerity. "I'm sorry," he said, swaying. He stepped forward, pulling Khadgar into him. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but he knew it was his fault.

#

Khadgar shook his head. "No, no. Don't you dare apologize," he said, taking in a deep breath. He could feel the energy in the air around him starting to build; he needed to get ahold of himself. 

"We can talk about this in the morning," he said, banking on the fact that Anduin wouldn't remember a word of this by morning. "Let's get you home, okay?"

Khadgar insistently urged Anduin forward, trying to ignore the raindrops that were just starting to fall. He wasn't porting Anduin when he was like this; drunken ports never ended well, whether or not it was the mage who was inebriated. Drunk people had a tendency to stumble half out of the portal right as it transitioned, which could get...messy.

#

"Are you mad at me, bookworm?" Anduin asked, a little pathetically. 

He let himself be led along, half following, half falling into Khadgar. He shook his head to himself. He didn't remember doing anything wrong, but then again, his memory hadn't been the best lately. 

He took a long pull from the bottle of mead. Thinking about it when his thoughts were muddled wouldn't do either of them any good. "I'm happy you're here," he tried again, deciding that if Khadgar were mad at him, perhaps he should ingratiate himself. It was true, anyway. He'd been about to spiral too far into depression there in the cemetery before Khadgar had shown up. 

#

"I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself," Khadgar said, perhaps putting a little too much faith in Anduin having drunk-induced memory loss. He raised an eyebrow at the long pull Anduin took from the bottle, and snorted.

"Don't you think you'd better get rid of that in case Taria is waiting up for us?" he asked; it was half a joke, and half serious. Bringing back a drunken Anduin would be understandable; bringing back a drunken Anduin who was _still actively drinking_ would probably put them both under her scrutiny.

His expression softened a little bit at Anduin's last statement, though, and the hint of a smile touched his features. "I'm happy you're here too. I'll be even happier to get somewhere dry," he commented, the rain beginning to soak his shirt, leaving it heavy and sticking to his skin.

#

"Why would you be mad at...you?" Anduin frowned, then looked comically around them as if Taria were waiting in the bushes somewhere, ready to spring out at them. 

"Good thinking," Anduin said, relaxing when he realized his sister was nowhere to be found yet. He straightened, winked at Khadgar, and proceeded to try and down the entire half a bottle of remaining alcohol in one go. 

#

"Just...forget I said anything," Khadgar said, and then his eyes widened and he made a rather comical noise of protest as Anduin tried to chug half a bottle of alcohol. He reached up and grabbed it, holding it out of arm's reach from Anduin.

"You know that's not what I meant," he snapped half–heartedly, leading Anduin through the doors of the castle and out of the rain–and right into a hallway where Taria and Dion were having a conversation.

And Khadgar realized this probably didn't look great, the two of them coming in at this late hour, soaked to the bone, one of them obviously drunk and the other one holding a half empty bottle of mead.

"Um...we were just...passing through?" he tried, pointing toward the hallway to their room.

#

The conversation in the hallway halted. Taria turned to them, her eyes widening into saucers. Dion's mouth made a perfect "O", and he looked between the two men and the Queen several times before apparently deciding his life was at an end, judging by his expression. 

"Khadgar, _Anduin,_ " Taria said. "We were just talking about you. And," she gestured to them, her arms encompassing their entire bodies. "Here you are."

She looked very much like she was caught between crying, yelling, and laughing, her cheeks tinging pink. 

Anduin waved a hand at her, as if to shoo her away. "We're fine," he said. 

"Oh?" She asked.

"Yes," Anduin smiled. "How was your day?"

Taria actually winced, turning to Khadgar. "You didn't tell your guard where you went, he was worried." Her gaze took in her brother. "But I can see why, perhaps, you didn't want anyone coming with you."

She stepped forward then. Anduin had to make a concentrated effort not to back away from her, but he still flinched. Her adept gaze took in his expression, and she frowned at Khadgar. She didn't appear angry anymore, though, just baffled. 

"You, too?" She asked Khadgar, scrutinizing his hold on the bottle of mead. "Are you both celebrating your victory?"

Her tone said she wouldn't believe him if he tried to use that excuse. 

#

Khadgar actually winced. Celebrating a victory? What did he even have to celebrate, trading one evil for another? He couldn't say any of it, though, and it wouldn't be fair to be angry at Taria when she couldn't have known any better. 

"I wasn't–" he started to say, but then he remembered–he had taken a drink of it, and Anduin had been hanging all over him, so he probably smelled like it too. Great.

"We were mourning our losses. Past  _and_ future," he said, not meeting her eyes, because those words alone should speak volumes. Anduin had been mourning for those he lost–and Khadgar was already mourning for those he couldn't protect from the fel when those rifts opened. He adjusted his grip on Anduin, who was either becoming heavier or leaning more on Khadgar as time passed–probably the second one.

He could feel the energy crackling in the air around him again, and he took a deep breath, trying to quell it. It didn't quite work. "Can we go?" he asked softly. He'd been feeling overwhelmed all day. Dion looked at Taria with both surprise and questioning in his eyes–he hadn't seen the two of them like this before, and it was a bit unnerving, to say the least.

#

Taria sighed. "Dion, please go with them and make sure they're settled."

Her gaze gentled when she looked at Khadgar. "I would like to speak more to you later. It sounds as if there is a lot about this battle that I have not heard about. Tyrande told me some of it, but she also told there were things only the two of you could tell me. I may not be a warrior, but I do not like feeling helpless, Khadgar."

Anduin, meanwhile, was feeling sicker by the second. "Can you bring a bucket, Mustard?" He asked. "And do not worry, Taria. All is well. We're alive. We'll keep fighting. And Khadgar will save us," he ruffled the mage's hair. 

"Please, just make sure he doesn't do anything ridiculous," Taria asked Khagar. "And whatever it is troubling your mind, Khadgar. You aren't alone. You must know that."

#

"Of course," Khadgar said to Taria, managing a smile for her–though it didn't quite reach his eyes. Somehow, the idea of Anduin being so certain that Khadgar could save anyone right now was fuel on the fire in his mind.

He guided Anduin to their room, set the mead on the desk, and then sat Anduin down on the edge of the bed, taking the bucket that Dion brought to them. "We'll be alright now," he said, and Dion didn't look happy about being dismissed when they were like this, but he reluctantly stepped out of the room.

"You alright there?" he asked Anduin, setting the bucket within easy reach of the drunken regent.

#

Now that he was away from the graves and back in the familiar setting of the castle, Anduin was slowly remembering that he was not supposed to be worrying Khadgar. Khadgar had responsibilities. Khadgar was already upset. 

Anduin waved a hand at him. "I'm fine," he said. "Why wouldn't I be?" He mustered up a smile, trying to keep from falling over. The bed was soft though, so it was just a matter of falling backwards if the time came. 

When he looked at Khadgar's face though the smile turned genuine. "I love you," he said. 

#

Khadgar laughed; he couldn't help it. It seemed that Anduin got extra affectionate when he was drunk, which was...somewhat unexpected.

"I love you too," he said with a smile, kissing Anduin's forehead. "Now get some sleep. You're going to need it, if you're going to a feast tomorrow and want to look presentable."

Khadgar himself didn't really want to sleep; not until he had to. If he waited, he would crash harder–and if he slept that deep, he probably would be less likely to wake up mid–cast. It was worth a shot, anyway, and he'd missed nights of sleep before.

#

"Mm," Anduin agreed. His forehead creased. "Are you staying?"

It sounded like the mage expected him to sleep alone; it brought back the earlier tension of their conversation on their walk home. It was already fuzzy to Anduin, but he remembered as much as that he'd said something to make Khadgar upset with him. 

#

"Yes," Khadgar said, because that much was true–he planned to stay until Anduin fell asleep, just to make sure he didn't try and go do anything stupid. He sat down on the bed next to Anduin and nudged him to lie down. "Now go to sleep. Really."

Khadgar couldn't help but think that Anduin would probably regret this in the morning; he was tempted to ask Taria about ways to ease hangovers.

...but Anduin probably already knew what fixed hangovers, so that would likely be a wasted effort.

#

Anduin kicked off his boots. "You're not lying down," he said, his eyes narrowing. He was drunk, not stupid. "Are you planning to go back to the library, bookworm?"

He did lie down, though, the room was spinning too much. He was past the numb part of being intoxicated, his head buzzing as all he drank caught up with him. It was usually at this point he would drink more to delay the awareness of what poison he'd put into his body. 

He put a hand over Khadgar's thigh. "I spent all day with ghosts," he said mournfully. "I don't want to be alone."

The last part was mumbled, though–he was already losing consciousness. 

#

"I'm not tired yet, but I'm sure I will be soon," Khadgard said, which again–wasn't a lie. Just a loophole. 

He set his hand over Anduin's, stroking his thumb across the man's calloused knuckles. "I'm always around. You always know where to find me," he pointed out with a smile, watching as Anduin's eyes started to fall closed. He waited until he was sure Anduin was unconscious, and then he leaned over and kissed him on the forehead one more time before he stood up to leave. He grabbed the mead on his way out–no sense in leaving that within Anduin's reach.

He headed for the library, stopping along the way and holding the mead over a trash barrel–but he paused. He looked at the bottle thoughtfully, thinking about all the things he heard–how with just enough of this, it was easy to forget. 

He may have been the Guardian, a powerful mage, but he was still young and obviously capable of making stupid decisions. And he _really_ wanted to forget.

This particular decision led to him downing the half bottle of mead stubbornly as he worked–but when it was gone, he found that he felt no different, other than the awful taste in his mouth. But if he had one thing in excess, it was curiosity, and stubborn determination–so he made a clandestine trip to the kitchen to grab another bottle.

It took two more trips after that before he even felt the beginnings of a warm, pleasant buzz, and four more after that before he was officially _drunk_. He'd made little progress on his actual work, but he'd managed to avoid sleep, and he'd somehow managed to perfect a transformation spell on a book, which was his current focus as he sat cross legged on top of the table, books and empty bottles scattered on the tabletop around him.

#

Anduin woke to an empty bed, but his concern about that was soon overshadowed by a sudden, horrible roiling in his stomach. Luckily, someone had thoughtfully placed a strategic bucket by his bedside. 

After he had finished emptying his belly of a sea of alcohol and no food whatsoever, he had to bend over his knees to keep from dry heaving from the pain in his head. It took him another long while to coax himself into a sitting position, and even longer for him to get to his feet.

Why was his bed empty? He had a sickening feeling in his chest that had nothing to do with alcohol.

He found Dion standing guard n the hallway.

"Where's Khadgar?" He croaked.

"Good morning, my lord," Dion said brightly, and loudly.

Anduin leveled a glare at him.

The soldier took pity on him. "Stay here, I'll get something to help from the kitchens."

"Good man," Anduin muttered unintelligibly, retreating back into his room.

After Dion returned and Anduin ingested what was thrust into his hands, he felt human enough again to worry about his empty room and his missing mage.

"The library," Dion said.

Sure enough, he did find Khadgar, but he lost whatever he was going to say as he stared in consternation at the number of empty bottles surrounding a decidedly drunk Guardian. With his head still pounding, he said, loudly, "Bookworm. You don't like alcohol."

#

Khadgar heard Anduin's familiar voice, and he looked up with a grin and a dangerous sway that nearly sent the pile of books beside him toppling over. "I don't. It tastes awful," he agreed, his voice slurred, giving a distasteful look to one of the empty bottles. "And I don't know how you got so drunk on two bottles. I didn't even start feeling anythin' ‘til the fourth one. Maybe I got t'wrong kind. Started on mead and went to whiskey...?"

Then his face brightened again, and he fumbled for one particular book at the edge of the table. "But look!" he said proudly, and then with a quick incantation and a soft glow, the book burst into light and reformed–into a cat. Pretty much a cat made of arcane light.

"I turned a book into a _cat_ , Anduin. _I_ didn't even know I could do that," he said as the arcane cat kind of...limped strangely across the table. "Okay, so it needs some work. He's got a limp and he kind of sounds drunk when he meows. But seriously, Anduin, a _cat_. From a _book,_ " he added, sounding as gleeful as a kid who'd just done their first real magic spell.

If he'd been trying to forget, it seemed to be working spectacularly well. He'd been so caught up in random, useless spells all night that he'd forgotten why he got drunk in the first place.

#

Anduin couldn't help but grin at Khadgar's enthusiasm. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen the mage this carefree. 

He took a step forward and startled when suddenly a perfectly normal book became a particularly unusual cat. He reached out and pet it. The light crackled as it touched his fingers.

He picked up a bottle and examined it, then cast his eyes to the others.

"You drank all of these?" He asked incredulously. 

#

Khadgar snorted. "Well, _yeah_. Isn't that the point?" he asked, as if it were a ridiculous question if he'd drank eight bottles of mead and whiskey over the course of a few hours. "Everyone else just gets drunk when they don't want to deal with anything, right? Just thought it didn't take this much t'get drunk. How do people not go broke?"

He was seriously considering his own question. That was a lot of money, to drink that much alcohol, and some people got drunk every night. Something in the equation wasn't fitting, and it definitely wasn't his lack of ability to use critical thinking. Or his lack of understanding of how alcohol was supposed to work. Nope, this time the problem was definitely not him. He was sure.

"Anyway, I found out that I probably _can't_ put the barriers in my head back up, so I thought, why bother? I'll just...get drunk instead," he added with an exaggerated shrug and a frown. After all, it worked for other people, why not him? Unfixable problem, drink until the problem just isn't important anymore.

The cat sparked and hissed, the arcane magic in it obviously feeding off Khadgar's emotional state.

#

Anduin was caught between amusement and horror. "Most people would be dead if they drank this much, spell-chucker. Ouch."

He shook his hand out as the arcane cat suddenly got feisty. He hissed at it, responding as he usually did to animals–in their own language. He looked between it and Khadgar, though, and narrowed his eyes.

Khadgar wasn't his son, but this was a stark reminder of the absence of role models in the younger man's life. Anduin was disturbed down to his bones by the knowledge that _he_  was the one who had taught the mage this particular life-lesson. 

_Or..._

"Are you trying to teach me a lesson, bookworm?" He asked suspiciously. 

#

Khadgar tilted his head at Anduin, staring at him in confusion.

"If I am, I'm probably doin' a horrible job of it, ‘cause I can't remember what it would be," he pointed out with a chuckle, reaching out to the arcane cat and letting light weave from his fingertips into it. The cat grew spines down the back and then horns, much like a dragon. He seemed satisfied with that little enhancement to book-cat, and grabbed the mostly empty bottle next to him and took another swig from it before flipping through a few pages in the book in front of him. 

"I'll bet I can, like...turn it into a bigger cat. A Nightsaber," he said, but then he frowned and looked up, running his fingers through his already messy hair. "...Might be a little big for the library."

He was bound and determined to ignore the real problems at hand for as long as possible–and the fact that he hadn't slept since they camped out after the battle.

#

Anduin sighed, but the truth was, unlike him, drink seemed to suit Khadgar. The mage seemed happier and relaxed. All alcohol had ever done for Anduin was make him numb and able to sleep without dreams. He didn't know how he could nag the mage when this was a habit he'd so obviously taught. 

Well, perhaps Khadgar would get an idea about moderation when the drink started to wear off and he learned about hangovers. 

"That doesn't seem very ambitious," Anduin drawled. "A Nightsaber? What about a Dragon?" He jerked a thumb toward Khadgar's little creation. 

He snatched the bottle away from Khadgar, sniffed it, and knocked the rest of it back. That at least would help the nail driving itself into his head. 

"So you can't put the barriers back up," he added conversationally. "That seems permanent. If this is your solution, you'll have to be broke and drunk for the rest of your life. Are you planning to go begging on the streets of Stormwind? 

#

Khadgar gave Anduin a look like he was the biggest idiot in Azeroth. "Not in a library. There are _books_ here," he said with a frown. Even drunk, he couldn't bring himself to destroy valuable books. He pouted as Anduin took the bottle away from him, but only for a moment before grabbing a book and tossing it on Anduin's side of the table. Then another. Then another.

"All references to the barriers. All of them say it's an automatic transfer and activation done by the font. Can't be reproduced by a spell," he said, and then he paused, and seemed to seriously consider the 'begging on the streets' as a serious suggestion.

"Well, I mean, it would have its advantages," he pointed out with a snort. "At least no one's depending on the beggars to save the world."

Yes, evidently alcohol made him honest, too.

#

Anduin leaned over the table, shoving the books aside, and gave Khadgar a pointed look. "We've been back from the front lines one day. You expect to save the world overnight? Really?"

He straightened back up, took one of the books and browsed its cover disinterestedly, then tossed it back toward Khadgar. 

He felt a well of frustration bubbling up inside of him, but he didn't know how to put any of the feelings within it into words. He had died less than two days ago, according to everyone you asked. Khadgar had been so upset at the time, but not only was he treating the victory he'd sacrificed his life for as if it were nothing, the first night they had back in Stormwind had the mage falling back into old solitary habits. He had said he'd wanted to share Anduin's bed, that he understood it was companionship and not just pleasure, but when he'd been at his lowest point in a long while, Khadgar had been nowhere to be found. 

He was trying to be understanding of the pressure Khadgar was putting on himself. He couldn't begin to imagine having that much power contained within you, and then losing control over it. He didn't blame Khadgar for trying to forget about his problems.

He blamed him for doing it alone.

Anduin blamed him for leaving _him_  alone. He couldn't remember much of the night before, other than that he'd been at the graveyard, but he definitely recalled asking his supposed lover to stay with him. 

"See that you eat," he said, worried nonetheless. "And get some sleep. You'll need it when your head starts pounding."

He gave the cat one last scratch, despite knowing that it was symbolically only for his benefit, then left to head down to the barracks. His men and women deserved praise after what they'd been through. He would debrief them on the plans for Kalimdor, and start working toward gathering volunteers for the next push against the Horde.

There was also a real cat he should check up on, he remembered. 

#

Khadgar blinked in surprise. He was fairly sure that ten seconds ago Anduin hadn't been angry with him, but now he practically radiated frustration.

Probably something to do with the alcohol, if Khadgar had to guess. Then again, he didn't think he should trust his instincts right now.

"Anduin–" he started to call out for him to wait, to say what he'd done wrong–but in his effort to get up, he only managed to end up on his hands and knees on the floor. It probably should have hurt, but it didn't; seemingly another effect of the alcohol. Feeling no pain. It was nice, but right now, he wanted a clear head, and that wasn't happening. There was probably a spell for it, but by the time he found it, he would probably be sober.

He had the feeling he was going to have a lot of regrets when he was sober.

He hadn't been on his feet in a while, so when he finally managed to stand, he was a bit shocked to discover how difficult just walking was right now. It was like he was back on the Night Elven boat, with the deck tilting under his feet. He braced a hand on the wall and closed his eyes, trying to keep his balance, and trying to control the magic in the air that was starting to pick back up now that he was anything but relaxed. He managed to make it almost to the door before he gave up, leaning back against the wall and sliding down it, giving up on trying to follow Anduin.

He wanted to say he was sorry. For everything; for failing at the battle, for whatever he did here to make Anduin look at him like that– _anything_. He would apologize a million times if it meant Anduin wouldn't leave him again. He flinched and squeezed his eyes shut as arcane sparks danced across his skin, and he couldn't even begin to rein it in.

So he stopped trying. He finally passed out there, no longer able to force himself on with no sleep to speak of, and when Dion found him some time later, it took the guard a moment and a look around the room to realize what was going on.

"Khadgar...?" he said softly, reaching out to touch the sleeping Guardian–and getting a nasty shock for his troubles that sent him stumbling back. He took a closer look, and this time, he saw the sparks, and felt the hum of magic in the air. He straightened up and went to the hall, whistling for a patrol of two soldiers passing by.

"Find Lothar, if you can. If not him then Thelae. Even Tyrande. Just tell them they're needed in the library," he said, his tone begging discretion of the two soldiers. They saluted and went to find help, and Dion knelt by the Guardian, trying to figure out some way past the barrier–and hoping that whoever answered the call for help would have an idea. He hoped they didn't find Taria first; he could only imagine her distress at this.

#

The guards had no luck finding Lothar; from what they discovered he'd already left the castle. They were able to find the Night Elf emissary Thelae in her rooms, though, and she immediately agreed to come to the library. 

"Perhaps we should find the Priestess," she suggested.

"Dion made it clear it was urgent, emissary," one of the worried soldiers said. 

Thelae sent him away to find the regent; she didn't know a lot about the arcane or mages, but she did know that the Guardian seemed to focus better when the other man was present.

She reached the library quickly enough, giving Dion a brief smile and the barest touch of her hand on his elbow as she came to stand beside him. She would never have guessed that a diplomatic mission would have led to getting to know a human so well. She would have said they were too short–lived and too small, but Dion was strong, loyal, and steady. She was grateful to have had the opportunity to make such a friend. 

As she was also for the regent and this Guardian. She frowned down at Khadgar, then knelt beside him. 

"Guardian?" She questioned. "Guardian, what is happening? How can we help?"

#

"Be careful," Dion said, putting one hand on Thelae's shoulder to keep her from reaching out–there was no telling if the magic could do more damage than it had to him. "He's passed out, and he's somehow...lost control of his magic. I tried to touch him and...it didn't go well. Look."

He knelt down beside her and pointed to Khadgar's hands, where his skin was showing, and it was only a moment before arcane sparks danced across the surface again. He sighed, taking off his helmet and setting it aside.

"It has something to do with whatever happened with Elune. I'm sure of it. He hasn't been well since then," he said softly. "He and Lothar are both not well, but...there's little we can do about it. Perhaps Taria, or Tyrande...?"

#

Thelae's ears went back slightly. "I sent your guards to find the regent," she said. "I had asked about Tyrande but they seemed to think it more important that I come here first. Hopefully the second one of your men will fetch her."

"Guardian!" She repeated more sharply. "Khadgar. Wake."

She glanced around the library, then spotted the mess on and around one of the tables. She nudged Dion, pointing. "Has he done this before?" She questioned. 

#

Dion shook his head. "Never. As far as I'm aware, mages in training are forbidden from drinking alcohol, and I've never seen him with it here," he said, guilt settling deep in him. "I should have been watching him closer. But Lothar went to him only hours ago, so I thought he would be alright..."

He wondered, for a moment, just how drunk Khadgar had been when Lothar found him–and if Lothar had to leave for some reason, why he didn't notify Dion of Khadgar's condition.

After all, Dion was here to protect him.

Khadgar moaned softly and started to stir, one shaking hand coming up to clutch at his head. Dion have him a sympathetic look. "Guardian, can you...get rid of this magic?" he asked tentatively, and without opening his eyes, Khadgar shook his head no.

Well. That was new.

#

Anduin shouldn't have been surprised when a guard burst into his training room as he was debriefing a small group of his soldiers, but considering he had just left the castle he had thought he would have more time before something else went south. 

It was with a sinking stomach that he listened as the guard relayed that something had happened with Khadgar.

 _Selfish,_  he scolded himself. 

It was easy to forget, with all the Guardian had done and all the power he held, that he was still very young. It made Anduin deeply uncomfortable to think about, if he were honest with himself. But Khadgar had never been anything but an equal to him, and so it was always a shock to be reminded that at times, the mage still needed looking after. 

He apologized to the soldiers for needing to leave, then made haste back to the library where he'd last left Khadgar. To his surprise he found Thelae and Dion both there, with the emissary crouched in front of Khadgar's prone form.

"He's just drunk," Anduin began, but then he caught sight of the faint sizzle of the arcane sparking around the mage's body. "What happened?" He asked brusquely.

Both Thelae and Dion seemed at a loss, and the latter even seemed to be blaming him, based on the baleful look he was being given.

Frowning he knelt down by Thelae, though closer, unafraid of the magic Khadgar was radiating. He'd touched worse than that in his lifetime after all. 

"What are you doing, spell-chucker?" He asked mildly, knowing that whatever was happening was likely out of the mage's control. 

#

"I found him passed out here," Dion explained, trying to keep his tone neutral–mostly–even though he was angry that Lothar hadn't kept him informed of this. "I tried to wake him, but it seems he can't stop whatever is causing this...barrier."

Khadgar heard Anduin's voice, and his first instinct was guilt. He didn't remember much right now–in fact, he hardly remembered anything at all after starting his research in the library–but he did remember that Anduin was mad at him. He just couldn't remember why. He forced his eyes open, but immediately closed them again against the dual pain–the sharp, throbbing pain of what he assumed was the hangover, and the dull ache all over from magic running rampant too long. His normally brown eyes were glowing a slight, light blue.

"I c–can't," he stuttered, desperately trying to pull the arcane back under control, but he was fighting a losing battle against himself–it was a vicious circle. He was panicking because Anduin was here and he couldn't get this under control, and because he was panicking, any efforts were going to waste. It only made his head throb even more, and he whined softly and curled up tighter on the floor. "I can't, it h–hurts."

#

Anduin groaned. "Dion, please get what you got me earlier. We have to figure out what is because of his likely enormous hangover and what's being caused by something else."

Dion still didn't seem thrilled with him, but he followed orders and left.

"That's why you don't drink eight bottles of alcohol by yourself," Anduin pointed out with a glance toward Thelae. She shook her head slightly at him, her expression also one of disbelief. 

Dion was fast going to the kitchens and back; when he returned he handed Anduin the bowl and cup to pass on to Khadgar.

"Come on, spell-chucker," he encouraged. "Sit up. Dion's brought you something that will make everything seem a bit better."

#

Khadgar frankly didn't see how anything would ever feel better ever again. He was pretty sure his whole world was going to be eternal pain from now on, judging by the level of agony now.

...okay, maybe he was being a bit melodramatic, but it was his first hangover, combined with an arcane affliction.

He tried again to suppress the arcane that was charging the air around him, but all he managed to do was suppress it for a moment before it found a new outlet, firing out in bolts across the floor–which luckily, managed to miss all three people in the room. Dion jumped in surprise, looking with worry from Anduin to Khadgar. "Are you sure this is...safe?" he asked, momentarily worried for Thelae–but of course, hearing that didn't help Khadgar's emotional state any.

"I'm sorry," he managed, opening his eyes and blinking hard a few times. He was obviously struggling–the glow in his eyes pulsed, faded, and then sparked to life again as he fought to sit up against the wall, the air around him sparking with the effort

#

Anduin cast a glance to Dion and Thelae. "Perhaps you should both go," he said. "Wait outside if you must, Dion."

He reached out and grabbed Khadgar's shoulder. It felt like he'd been shocked by an electric eel for a moment, but he managed to hold on. 

"Come on," he said. "You can control this, Khadgar. I know you."

Thelae stood fluidly, then touched Dion's elbow, her face worried. The two of them left the room. 

"It's just you and me now," Anduin said, giving Khadgar a weak smile. Placing the dishware on the floor he shoved both toward him. 

He was genuinely concerned for what was happening to Khadgar. He didn't know if it was loss of control from the drink, or just the pain of having his first hangover, or if maybe this is what had caused Khadgar to drink in the first place. That sent strains of guilt worming their way through his heart. 

 _He had seemed fine though,_  Anduin reminded himself. He had remembered him being a supportive presence the night before, and even in the library he hadn't seemed to be in any danger of whatever this was. He had been doing spells all over the place, for Light's sake. 

#

Khadgar's eyes went wide the second Anduin grabbed onto him and held on, because he knew it had to be hurting him. He felt a new wave of determination, one that was familiar; that he couldn't hurt Anduin. 

He sent a surge of arcane power inward, forcing those temporary walls back up in one effort, even though he knew they were flimsy. They wouldn't last. But they did what he needed–they shut down the excess, cutting it off, his eyes fading back to brown rapidly. 

He fell forward against Anduin, clutching at the man's shirt and pressing his forehead against his shoulder, trying to catch his breath. The ache from the magic was fading, leaving just the sharp pain in his head, his token of his multitude of mistakes the night before.

"I'm sorry," he said again, his voice shaky. "It's...s–so much harder to control when I'm not...calm."

It was one way of putting it; Anduin would get the idea. It was why he'd been controlling it so easily when he was drunk–it's hard to do anything but relax with that much alcohol in your veins. Unfortunately, waking up with a hangover and an arcane shield you didn't cast was a good way to wake up in a panic.

#

"That's it," Anduin soothed him. He rubbed his back. "At least you didn't blow a hole in the library. I don't think you would have forgiven yourself for destroying this many books."

He mentally made a note that no matter what his feelings were, he would have to keep a closer eye on Khadgar. At least until he figured this particular problem out.

"Come on now," Anduin added. "Eat what Mustard brought you. It helped me survive the morning and I expect it will do the same for you."

#

Khadgar winced as he leaned back, the light making his head throb even more. He just needed to stay calm–he needed to find that same balance that he'd had the day he fought Medivh, when he'd been drawing from what Alodi told him.

_Trust in your friends._

The solution hit him so hard that he took in a sharp breath, and then he met Anduin's gaze with bright, clear eyes for the first time in a long while.

"...I know how to fix this," he said, and then he scrambled to his feet, pain be damned. He searched desperately on the table for one of the books, speaking the whole time he searched.

"I've been going about this all wrong. I can't block my own magic, and inherited or not, it is _mine_ now. That would be like...you swinging your sword at yourself and trying to block with your own arm. Light, how could I miss this?" he said, back to the rapid fire, excited speech that he'd had when he was telling Anduin that they had to go stop Medivh. He was back in his element; there was a problem, and he _could_ fix it.

With Anduin's help.

He found the right passage in the book and smacked the page triumphantly–even though he winced immediately after at the spike of pain through his head. His hands were sparking with magic once again, but this time the drop in control was out of excitement, and not panic. He turned around again and gave Anduin a bright smile.

"Time to turn the tables," he said with a determined look. "I get to teach you how to cast a spell, Anduin."

#

Anduin actually took a step back, hands in the air. "Whoa, kid. How drunk are you?" Alarmed, he took in Khadgar's abrupt determination with wide eyes. "I'm happy you have a plan, but you're forgetting that I _can't do magic._ "

Khadgar didn't look drunk, though. He just looked hungover and obsessed. 

Not a good combination in anyone. 

"Let me go get Tyrande..." he began.

#

Khadgar immediately shook his head. "No. It has to be you," he said, and then he stepped forward, grabbing Anduin's hands in his own.

"Listen. Ideally, it would be another mage. Or at least a person who has some aptitude with it. But whoever does this spell for me is going to be...well, basically, reaching past every defense I have as a mage and doing things that normally would only be done as an insane last resort. You're the only person I trust to do that."

He squeezed Anduin's hands, giving him a more pleading look. "I know a spell that will allow me to lend you some of my powers, temporarily. It will both give you the ability to cast spells for maybe a day or so, and it will weaken me–which is a good thing for this, because you'll need me weakened to even cast this spell in the first place," he explained.  The last thing they needed was Anduin getting hurt from a mage's natural defense mechanism. "But you're the only one I trust to do this. You know there's no other mages I could let in my head like that, and Tyrande doesn't use magic. Her powers are completely different."

#

Anduin's eyes widened further, his hands shaking slightly in Khadgar's. He was perfectly fine around magic, be it Medivh's once upon a time or Khadgar's, but to be asked to do it was an entirely different matter.

"I'll hurt you," the note of panic was distinguishable in his voice. "I won't know what I'm doing."

He frowned. "And is it really such a good idea to make yourself weak when you've been so worried...?

#

"You won't hurt me. I have faith in you," Khadgar said with a smirk, because he was tossing Anduin's constant reassurances right back at him. Anduin knew that Khadgar would never hurt him–and Khadgar knew the same of Anduin. "I can give you quick lessons on the basics, tell you exactly what to do and exactly what's going to happen. And I can teach you exactly how to safely cut things off if the spell goes wrong."

He didn't need to say that it would be dangerous; Anduin already knew that. Any other mage would think Khadgar had lost his mind, allowing this kind of thing.

But he was sure Anduin could do it.

"Weakening me right now only means less arcane energy built up, which means that I'll have an easier time controlling things till we do the spell, theoretically. I just...won't be much help if a fight comes up. You'll have to actually exhaust the energy I give you to cause the spell to automatically reverse," he added, the pain in his head still intense, but not important right now. "Please, Anduin. My only other choice would be asking the Kirin Tor, and...I don't trust them to do this. I left them for a reason."

#

Anduin's lips made a thin line, but he nodded. Khadgar was practically begging him. What choice did he have, other than leaving Khadgar to work through this on his own, or as he'd said, go back to the people he'd run away from?

"Don't make me hurt you with this," he pled. "I'm no mage."

#

Khadgar smiled brightly. "I know you can do it," he said, and then he flinched and let go of one of Anduin's hands to press his hand to his own forehead. "But we should probably get started after I don't feel like my head got trampled by a horse."

Yeah, he wasn't sure he trusted himself to reliably cast important spells right now. He glanced at the bottles on the table and gave Anduin a slightly ashamed look.

"Guess I got carried away, huh?" he asked softly. He barely remembered anything from last night, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He counted the bottles and frowned–he did remember getting frustrated after finishing off the second bottle and not feeling a damn thing different. "How come you only had to drink like... _two_ to get drunk?"

#

Anduin breathed out a sigh of relief. He would prefer to not be required to root around in Khadgar's mind while he was nursing a hangover.

Khadgar's mood shifted again and Anduin sent him a rueful look. "It's been a while since someone as paid so much attention to me that they've copied my own bad habits." He shook his head but then narrowed his eyes. "I still don't know _how_ you drank that much. You were coughing after a sip of mead!"

Was Khadgar really calling him a _lightweight_? He felt insulted, though drink really wasn't something he took pride in. It was a means to an end.

#

"Hey, you can't take _all_ the credit. It's not like drinking problems away is unique to you,"

Khadgar pointed out with a weak smile, trying not to make Anduin feel bad. 

He sighed and shrugged helplessly at Anduin's exclamation. "I got used to it? I don't know, I got two bottles in and I didn't know why it wasn't working. I still don't know why it took so much," he said, rubbing his temples. He leaned forward against Anduin, setting his forehead against the man's chest. "...I think I need to lay down. My head _really_ hurts. I'm never drinking again."

Honestly, if this was the price you paid for one night of forgetting, Khadgar really wasn't sure why some people did it so often.

#

"I don't drink my problems away," Anduin huffed. "They don't go anywhere, believe me."

He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had honestly thought his days of nursing people through their first real drinking binge were over. Callan had gotten that out of his way when he joined the army, and who else would Anduin have been close enough to?

Who else indeed, but a coddled, isolated Kirin Tor runaway? He could never have seen this coming.

Somewhere in the afterlife, his wife was probably laughing at him. He had never drank to get drunk before her death, but he knew she wouldn't have approved, and this seemed like a fitting punishment.

He took Khadgar by the shoulderblades and forced him to sit back down by the remedies Dion had brought by. He pointed at the bowl and cup. "Third time spell-chucker, or you're not getting any sympathy from me."

#

Khadgar didn't really feel like eating–he felt a little ill–but if Anduin said it would help, then it probably would. After all, Anduin had more experience with this than him. He let himself be guided back down to the floor, leaning back against the wall and squeezing his eyes shut against the pain for a moment. 

"I didn't do anything stupid, did I?" he asked warily as he picked up the bowl and cup and started to eat. "I...don't really remember much after the fifth bottle."

He hoped Dion wasn't mad at him; he already put Dion through way too much. 

...he also hoped that no one told Taria, because he didn't think he could take any more disappointed looks from her. Her disappointed looks were just as bad as her angry looks, if not worse.

#

"You turned a book into a cat," Anduin said with a smile, but his amusement fell away to irritation. "I don't know what stupid things you did, Khadgar. I was sleeping alone in my own bed."

He didn't have any reason to be so annoyed, he tried reasoning with himself. He knew he wasn't easy to be around when he was drunk. Not that he was usually belligerent, but because he knew it wasn't easy to be around as much sadness as he admitted to when his guards were down. It wasn't what people expected of a commander or a king, and it wasn't what even close family and friends wanted to see from him. Everyone looked to him to be a leader, to boost morale, and when he didn't it felt like he was letting them down.

Taria thought he should move on from his losses, as she had; but she had her children, still. She had lost a husband to a war, Anduin felt like he was cursed. He was under no illusions that the mage in front of him was not just another loss to be eventually faced.

Then, too, were the feelings that led him to drink the night before in the first place–the memories of his chosen sacrifice, and the anger that out of all the people in his life he had been the one to be given a second chance. He would never be able to pay his respects to his son, his wife, or his friends without feeling overwhelming guilt just for being alive.

It was also hard to deal with Khadgar's convictions that all the lives they had lost on the battlefield had been just a blink in the history of their world. Any achievement he had felt with their efforts, any pride in finally defeating Gul'dan himself was erased every time he spoke with the mage and heard him talk about this new and bigger threat. It was all just dust.

He'd been trying since the day before to keep himself focused on the task at hand–keeping Khadgar safe, from himself or the world, and trying to find purpose in this second life by viewing it as an opportunity to serve his people. Azeroth was in danger, and they had to protect it. When he thought in those terms it was easy to think about picking up daily life again.

Easy to think about, but not, perhaps, so much to actually do it.

He bottled up his annoyance as best he could and reinstated his easy grin. "Any better?" He asked, tapping Khadgar lightly on the head.

#

Khadgar's face fell as he saw the obvious melancholy come over Anduin. "I'm sorry," he said softly, but the look on Anduin's face spoke of more than just being left alone for one night. 

Khadgar didn't know what else he'd done, but whatever it was, he'd never forgive himself if he was the reason for that look.

He flinched at the tap and batted Anduin's hand away–no, it was not that much better, thank you very much. "Anduin," he said insistently, setting the bowl and cup aside. "Please, talk to me. Something else is wrong, I can tell. I'm not stupid. I just...I can't help if you don't tell me what's _wrong_."

He didn't know what else to do. He was still worried that Anduin was actually mad at him for resurrecting him, and the feeling was eating away at him, that his decision was selfish. 

He wanted to help, but he felt _helpless_. He felt like he was kind of awful at this whole relationship thing–and he'd never felt good enough for Anduin in the first place. 

#

"I don't think anyone would call you stupid unless they wanted to be turned into a sheep," Anduin said with a smile, deflecting.

He wasn't sure if he'd hidden the flinch that came from being found out or not. He looked at Khadgar for a long moment, probably too long to not be obvious, considering.

"Just worry about yourself, Khadgar," he said eventually. "You have a lot on your plate. I'm all right."

And he was, actually. He wasn't sick. He wasn't battling off a magical ailment. If he were worried about fel taking over the world, or portals being opened into the nether, well, what could he do about it?

What could Khadgar really say to him, anyway? He'd just tell Anduin that he was alive because he deserved to have Elune's blessing. He doubted he would understand his feelings of guilt.

He reached out and took Khadgar's hand. He had meant to be better at not making the mage worry. He ran a gentle thumb over the knuckles. "I'm lucky to have you," he added, and meant it. 

#

Khadgar looked down at their joined hands, his expression still troubled. He had to know–he didn't want to ask, but he had to know. 

"I just...I want to ask you one thing," he said, the words uncertain. He paused a little too long, his grip tightening on Anduin's hand. "Last night, you said...you said that you didn't _ask_ for this. And I just..."

He looked up at Anduin, finally, trying not to look as anxious as he felt over this, and failing miserably. "Are you mad at me for it?" he finally blurted out, his stomach twisting uncomfortably, and not because of the hangover.

"I didn't think till after, that maybe...maybe it was selfish, what I did, and I didn't even have a way to give you a choice," he stuttered afterward, trying to explain, in case Anduin _was_ mad about it. Or in case he wasn't mad, but _would_ be mad over Khadgar worrying himself sick over this.

#

"What?" Anduin's voice was incredulous. That was enough to shock him out of his meandering thoughts. "Are you asking...?"

He blinked a few times, and it might have been comical to watch if there'd been anyone else present.

"Am I mad at you for giving me back my life?" Anduin asked flatly. "No, Khadgar. No. I am very glad to be alive. If I said that it was because I was trying to justify..."

It was because he had been selfish. He was trying to justify his existence to the dead. If he hadn't asked for it, maybe they wouldn't blame him. Maybe Taria wouldn't resent him for being alive instead of Llane.

He swallowed around his words. "There have been times in my life where it might have been a blessing to die honorably in battle, but at this moment I still have you," he said. "I haven't lost everything yet. But even when I lost everything, before, I managed to keep myself alive. I told you, don't worry about me. And if I haven't said it yet, _thank you_ for bringing me back."

All he could remember was the worst pain of his life, followed by nothing. It was the nothingness that worried him now. Was the afterlife empty, or was his own living mind unable to comprehend it?

#

The tension seemed to drain from Khadgar's body as the relief set in, and he practically lunged forward to throw his arms around Anduin's neck.

"You don't have to thank me," he said, the words muffled against Anduin's shoulder, but Light, now that he'd been reassured, he never wanted to let go. "You died _for_ me in the first place. So don't thank me for making things _right_."

Khadgar had no doubt that if Anduin had died and stayed dead that day, he would have followed–maybe not by his own hand, but perhaps forcing the hand of an enemy. And it was a little scary, knowing he was in so deep with this one person, one person who was in as much life–threatening danger as he was now on a regular basis.

#

Anduin's fingers embedded themselves in the cloth of Khadgar's shirt.

It was amazing how a simple hug from this man could be so comforting. He pressed his face into the side of Khadgar's head, his hair tickling his nose.

"I'm sorry if I made you think that," he said. "I don't know how I could have given you the impression I didn't want to be alive."

Or, that wasn't exactly true–he had a very good idea of the picture he made when he was inebriated.

His arms tightened around Khadgar, enjoying the solid warmth of him against his chest.

"I just..." he started to confess, but stopped himself. That wasn't _not worrying_ Khadgar. He should only burden him with things he could fix, and the problem of his guilt wasn't one of them. He couldn't convince him that his beliefs in the afterlife were still true, and he couldn't prevent Taria's resentment when she found out.

He changed what he was about to say. "My memories at least have come back. There weren't very many missing, except the time I spent dead I do not think will ever return to me. But I remember why I did it, and I have no regrets on that count. Gul'dan would have used me to kill you, or just have killed you outright if I had not taken that opportunity." He sighed, then allowed at least one small confession. "I want the sacrifices of that day to have meant something. It's hard to think that when it didn't end this war. We were supposed to stop the portal from opening, but you tell me that the threat is everywhere."

#

Khadgar lifted his head, this time with a determined look. "They did mean something," he insisted, not leaving much space between them.

"The rifts are a problem. A big problem. But look at it this way: Garona is now leading the orcs, as far as we know, that's to our advantage. And the demons coming through the rifts will be scattered and leaderless."

It was hard to find a bright side to this, but they did give advantages that they hadn't had before, at the very least. "Once I get the barriers back up and get my powers under control, I can start researching how to find and close the rifts. The rifts shouldn't be incredibly difficult to lose; our only disadvantage is in their numbers."

He pulled Anduin into a kiss, setting his forehead against his. "I know I've been less than optimistic lately. My head is...kind of a mess, after Elune," he admitted, though that much was probably already obvious. "But don't lose hope."

#

"That makes two of us," Anduin muttered.

But Khadgar's words helped. Until that moment he hadn't even known it was possible to close the rifts, and he didn't know if it would be too much for Khadgar. The other times he'd witnessed Khadgar use his magic against large threats it had weakened the mage alarmingly.

He nodded his forehead into Khadgar's, closing his eyes just so he could concentrate on the feel of Khadgar, alive and breathing, so close to him. "All right, Khadgar." He said.

It wasn't as if he had that much hope left to lose, so holding onto it shouldn't be that hard. Nevertheless, he did feel a little heartened, finally hearing Khadgar talk in terms of something other than fear.

There came a knock on the library door. Dion came in. "The Queen is asking for you, regent," he said. "She would like to speak to the Guardian too if he has time to take away from his research." The guard's expression said clearly that he knew Khadgar had abandoned his research, at least for the moment.

But Anduin frowned and stepped back from Khadgar. He gave the mage a quick smile then turned to the guard.

"Please give the Queen my regrets. There are...things...that need taking care of. At the barracks. After the journey we had. We haven't been back that long. I was interrupted to help the Guardian with the...with the arcane."

Dion raised an eyebrow at him. "It's the Queen, my lord," he chastised.

"Please give her my regrets," he repeated shortly. He couldn't face her at the moment. He squeezed Khadgar's hand apologetically. "I'll be at the barracks if you need me, Khadgar." He left the room practically at a run.

 _Mature, very mature,_ he told himself. But it wasn't enough to make him turn around.

_Yes, I killed myself, Taria. Yes, I was resurrected. No, I don't know why I was the one._

_Assessing the forces,_ he counted down the things he could keep himself busy with. _Visiting the injured. Paying respects to the dead. Taking inventory. Checking in on the Nightsabers. Planning for the trip to Kalimdor and organizing recruits._ He had days of work ahead of him. He wouldn't be able to avoid seeing her at the feast she had planned for that night, but he would be able to keep from talking to her well enough.

#

Khadgar looked helplessly after Anduin, fighting down the irritation at being left alone with this–they couldn't leave Taria in the dark forever. 

But Anduin had been through so much, Khadgar could understand him running from this, even if he wasn't happy about it.

"I'll go see her, Dion. One of us has to," he said, the reluctance obvious in his voice as he stepped into the hall. 

About halfway there he suddenly realized how bad of an idea this was–he probably smelled like alcohol and looked hungover, and she would probably expect an explanation for that. But it couldn't be helped; someone had to talk to her, and Anduin had run rather than recount the battle to his sister.

Khadgar stopped outside the throne room and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He would have to stay absolutely in control around her–which meant he'd have to stay calm, which would be difficult given the subject matter.

He stepped into the throne room, having the sense to look sheepish as he walked up to her and bowed. "Lady Taria," he said. "Anduin...had important things to attend to. He sends his regrets."

Even he knew how weak that sounded, but he didn't have the energy or motivation to cover for Anduin to his own sister. 

#

"Khadgar!" Taria looked genuinely happy to see him. "Thank you for coming."

If she heard the weak excuse he'd given about Anduin, she didn't acknowledge it. 

"Please sit," she said, a hint of amusement to her tone. "You look as you may need to. What has my brother done to you?" She shook her head, then fixed him with her kind eyes. "You're working so hard again, and just after such a hard battle. Are you taking enough care of yourself?"

#

Khadgar sat down gratefully; his head was still aching from the hangover. He momentarily felt guilty, since she was obviously worried about him, and he hadn't been taking care of himself at all.

"I'm...trying," he said, which was true for the moment; he hadn't really been trying last night, but he was now. "Not doing a very good job of it, I think," he added with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. 

He hated the fact that he would have to be the one to tell her what happened. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her.

#

"Please, anything I can do to help, let me know," Taria said. "You may feel you are only the Guardian, but to me you are a friend. Do not push yourself past your limits."

She waved and a servant brought over tea and pastries. She dismissed her, and they were left alone.

"I expected when you returned victorious I would perhaps see you and Lothar happy again," she began. "But that doesn't seem to be the case. You seem troubled, and it has been a long time since my brother has turned to drink." Her smile turned teasing. "Aside from when he lost his son, it has been rare to see him so unhappy while you are near."

#

Khadgar kept his gaze directed downwards as he cleared his throat and started to speak. "The demon and Gul'dan are both dead. So, we did succeed in our goal. But...that's not the end of what happened."

He swallowed hard, thinking again that he should have seen it coming. That he should have known that the demon's and Gul'dan's deaths would fuel that network. He was the one who had cast the death blow on both of them; he couldn't help but feel responsible. 

"Their deaths fueled a network of fel lines that reach across Azeroth. These fel lines can now open rifts to the nether anywhere, at anytime," he explained, the guilt obvious in every word. "I have a plan to correct the problem with my magic. If it works, I can get started finding and shutting down the rifts, and finding a way to deactivate the whole fel network. But it...won't be easy, or quick."

  
He shook his head, setting his elbows on his knees and looking down at the floor. "I should have seen it. I should have known they had a contingency plan if we were to attack and kill either of them."

It was his job to know the magic that was being used, and know its potential; and he'd entirely misjudged this. 

#

"You can't expect yourself to know everything," Taria said gently. "To be prepared for everything. It's a nice thought, isn't it, that we could be perfect? But even the truly powerful make mistakes. It's part of being...well, I would say human, but it would be more accurate to say part of being alive."

She shook her head. "Despite this new threat, Khadgar, the demon and Gul'dan were immediate dangers to Azeroth. I thank you for your service. I know that you will do everything in your power to protect this world, just as you have done."

#

Khadgar was amazed sometimes at how gracious of a queen Taria was. Half of the things he'd told her over these short months would earn him severe punishment were he still among the Kirin Tor; but she took each setback and even each victory with grace and wisdom. 

It made him more determined than ever not to let her down again.

"I should be able to repair the damage done to my powers within a few days, if all goes well. Anduin will be helping me with the process," he said, and then he smiled, just a bit. "It's dangerous and...well, unprecedented, but I trust him. And we have a history of pulling off highly unadvisable plans."

To say the least. He couldn't count how many times they'd taken huge risks and somehow made it out alive. 

He wanted to hug her, but she was still the queen, and he'd never quite figured out where the line of appropriateness was, so he just gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you, by the way. For having faith in me. You and Anduin always have, despite my being a complete stranger at the start."

#

Her face made a strange mixture of worry and humor as she laughed. "Perhaps you shouldn't tell me quite that much," she said. "Your highly inadvisable plans, I mean." She looked him over. "I do have faith in you, Khadgar, but please, have faith in yourself as well. I do not know what this Kirin Tor has done to you to make you doubt yourself so. I know you must trust yourself to some extent, since you, ah...chose to leave. But don't doubt us. There aren't many willing to do what you have done, to take the risks you have, to save our people."

She noticed how he leaned forward, toward her, but made no move to cross the space, so she did it for him. She stood only to bend over, hugging him with gentle. arms. She kissed his cheek and sat again, a smile on her face. "For your friendship," she said lightly. 

She folded her hands on her lap again. "Now. Can you please tell me why my brother is avoiding me? I feel as if there is something more that happened while you were away."

#

Khadgar had never thought of it that way, that the Kirin Tor's constant mantra of 'not good enough' would have made him doubt himself even after he'd escaped them. He didn't like to think of it that way, that they could have damaged him over years and years of training.

He was caught off guard at first as she closed that distance and hugged him, but he quickly relaxed into it and returned the hug.

"Try not to worry too much," he said, though he knew she would worry anyway. 

He stiffened, though, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat when she asked him about what had happened with Anduin. No wonder Anduin had been avoiding her; the last thing he probably wanted to do was tell her the whole truth of what happened.

"I...I don't know if he would be thankful or furious if I were the one to tell you," he said with a laugh that had no humor in it.

 _Why aren't you here? Why does it have to fall to me to do this?_ He thought, as if Anduin could hear his irritation if he thought it hard enough. 

#

"Ah," Taria said mildly. "So something did happen."

She looked thoughtfully at him, her eyes roaming his face as if she could see what he had to say if she searched thoroughly enough. 

"It does not seem as if he wants to tell me himself," she pointed out. "I could ask any soldier who went with you, or the High Priestess. I'm coming to you as you are his friend." She paused. "And mine, I hope."

#

Khadgar looked–and felt–distressed as she implored him to tell her what happened. Anduin didn't want her to know, but he had to know she would find out eventually.

But he would probably be mad at Khadgar for telling her. He was torn between saving Anduin from his sister's anguish and anger, and respect to his queen by telling her the whole truth.

She had to know. And if he didn't tell her, someone else would, and it would be even worse.

"Please, don't...don't be angry with him. He wouldn't have had to do it if I had handled the fight better," he said, blinking back tears, the air around him starting to hum with energy.

 _No. Don't lose it. Stay calm. Anduin is fine_ , he thought, trying to concentrate on that fact rather than the memory of Anduin dying in his arms.

#

Taria sat forward on her chair and took his hands in her own. "You don't have to tell me if it causes you too much distress," she said softly. "I can find Lothar easily enough." She gave a gentle laugh. "He'll be seated next to me tonight at the feast."

She patted his hands and gave him a pointed look. "You are doing it again, Khadgar. Even without knowing what happened, I cannot imagine it is your fault." She shook her head. "It cannot be that bad. Here you and my brother are alive, and you tell me the demon and Gul'dan are vanquished. Whatever happened I am sure it needs no forgiveness." 

#

Khadgar was afraid, at first, that he would accidentally hurt her if she held his hands; but instead of pulling away, he forced himself to take another deep breath, close his eyes, and get control.

 _You can do this_ , he said, giving himself a quick pep talk, his grip unintentionally tightening on her hands. When he opened his eyes again, though, he felt better. More centered. 

As the trauma of the battle passed, it was becoming easier to adjust and adapt, at least.

"Gul'dan struck me down, and he had Anduin trapped," he said, unaware that even with his control, his hands were trembling in hers. "He was going to use Anduin either to prevent me from attacking, or to have the opportunity to kill me."

He paused for a moment, having to concentrate on stifling the energy in him to avoid shocking her. "Anduin, he...he impaled himself on his sword to wound Gul'dan, and to keep himself from being used against me. H–He _died_ , Taria."

He blinked back the sting of tears in his eyes. "When Elune offered me her powers to protect our people, I used them to resurrect him. Otherwise, I..." he almost laughed, even though this was far from funny. "Otherwise both of us would have been returned to you in caskets."

#

Taria's dusky complexion paled. If Khadgar was gripping her hands too tightly, she didn't notice–her own hold on him tightened to the point of pain.

For a moment, she couldn't seem to find any words. Her eyes raked over his face as if searching for some sign he was joking.

"He died?" She whispered. "And the Goddess Elune blessed you. The High Priestess told me that much, that you had been touched during the battle and had saved everyone. I was waiting, by the way, to hear you mention that to me. But you only spoke of your weaknesses."

Her hand had begun shaking in Khadgar's. "He killed himself," she repeated, as if hearing it again would convince her that it made sense. 

#

Khadgar looked down; he couldn't meet her eyes when she looked that utterly crushed. Heartbroken. And he hated that he'd had to be the one to tell her–and he dreaded how Anduin would react when he found out.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to be the one to cause you this pain," he said, for a moment just angry that Anduin wasn't here to help comfort her. She was his sister, for Light's sake–she deserved at least that much from him. Khadgar was just the one who'd been unable to stop it from happening in the first place.

"I may have turned the tide of the battle, but were it not for Elune, I couldn't have killed the demon or saved your brother. And I wasn't able to keep them from powering the fel lines. That's...that's why I don't feel like speaking of this as a victory on my part," he explained softly. "I still have a lot of work to do to fix things."

He glanced up at her, but couldn't hold her gaze. Not yet. "Please don't blame him," he begged, obviously fighting to hold back tears now. "He did it because of me. Because of my actions."

#

"You misunderstand," Taria murmured. She took his chin gently in her hand, stroking a thumb lightly over his cheek before drawing it away again. 

She sat back, and straightened. "The role of kings, Khadgar, is to protect their people. It sounds like Lothar...died...an honorable death." She gave a short, surprised laugh. "How odd that sounds, when he lives now. I do not believe my brother would have done such a thing if it had not been absolutely necessary."

Her face was tense, her lips pressed thin. "It is hard to believe that such a thing is possible," she added, and was silent for a long moment. 

"I think it is incredible that you love him so much," she added. The grip on the arm of her chair, however, turned her knuckles white. "That you would admit to not being able to live without him. That is a dangerous way of thinking, when you love a warrior." Her eyes grew distant for a long moment. "I was married to a king," she continued, softly. "I knew one day he might leave for battle, and not return. That day came and passed, Khadgar, and yet here I am."

She drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and attempted to meet his eyes again. "I am still angry," she said. "I am angry that we did not have more time together, and I am angry that there was not another way. But I could not be prouder of him. I could not love him more, for making that selfless choice to lead his people."

Her grip relaxed on the chair, but when she clasped her hands on her lap, her fingers made agitated circles around one another. "I am angry with Anduin," she admitted. "But it is not for the reason you think."

#

Khadgar looked up at her sympathetically–in one way, he could imagine how she'd felt when Anduin returned home carrying the body of his king. Anduin had bled out in his arms; he'd been covered in his blood, ready to throw his life away to see his revenge through.

But he hadn't had to go on without Anduin. He hadn't been forced to keep going despite the pain, despite the loss, and not for the first time, he wondered how she managed it. He wasn't sure he would have had the strength.

"How do you do it?" he finally asked, his voice nearly a whisper. "I...I don't know that I would be as strong as you, in the same situation. I _wasn't_ as strong as you. In that moment...I didn't care if I died."

His look turned to confusion, though, at her last words. "Then why?" he asked, searching her face for an answer to either question. "Because he hadn't told you himself?"

#

Taria smiled tiredly at him. She looked human, in that moment; a bereaved woman rather than a queen. "I do it because I must," she said simply. "Please do not be so hard on yourself, Khadgar." There was suddenly an amused twist to her lips. "I am older than you, you know. You learn how to accept loss more gracefully as you age. It is a necessity of life."

She shook her head at his question. For a moment, it appeared as though she wouldn't speak.

"He was at the graveyard yesterday, drinking?" She questioned, but didn't seem to need his confirmation. "He has lost more than I have, Khadgar. My children keep me strong. He was a father. Never forget that."

She looked down at her hands. They had been twisting her gown; she forced them to stop. "His wife. Callan. Llane and Medivh," she listed. "All those who have lost their lives. All who remain dead."  She had the ghost of a smile as she met Khadgar's eyes. "If it were any other time, before his losses, he would have come back bragging that he had died. He would have crowed to me about the glory of it, once. What a feat, that you were blessed by a goddess and granted the power of resurrection. I cannot comprehend what you have done."

Her hands clenched again. "I guarantee you that he thinks Elune should have granted them life instead of him," she said clearly. "I know my brother. He thinks I will resent him. As he resented Callan, in the beginning, when his wife died in childbirth."

#

Khadgar hadn't forgotten Callan. He couldn't, not after seeing Anduin's grief for him. But he hadn't known that Anduin had spent any time resenting his son for his wife's passing. He understood it; he'd seen enough grief over the years to know that people wanted something to blame other than the cruel hand of fate. But he also knew that Anduin must see it as himself failing as a parent–and when he was starting to make up for it, he lost his son to this war.

Khadgar let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding; he was beginning to understand.

"It was me, though," he finally said, shaking his head. "It was Elune's powers, yes, but...I'm the one who chose to use them to resurrect him. I'm sure Elune could have stopped me had she wanted to, but she didn't. She allowed me to make the choice. But...I suppose it wouldn't help for him to know that, with the guilt he already feels."

He knew he likely couldn't do anything to assuage that guilt. Nothing aside from what he'd already been attempting and failing at doing–being there for Anduin when he was needed. His hands clenched into fists on his knees as he came to a decision–he wouldn't let himself fall apart like that anymore. Couldn't. Nothing was helped by it, least of all Anduin.

"Thank you, Taria. For your time, and your understanding," he said, giving her another smile–and this one actually reached his eyes, a true smile. "Llane was an amazing man. An inspirational king. And I'm going to do everything I can to help Anduin fill those shoes without losing himself trying."

He stood to go, bowing before her.

#

Taria stood with a soft rustle of fabric. She stepped forward swiftly, taking him by the hands and drawing him closer into a sisterly embrace. 

"Thank you," she said fervently. "Thank you for bringing him back to us. Thank you for not making me mourn my brother as well."

She stepped back with one hand over her heart. "I understand if your responsibilities will not allow it, but I would be heartened to have your presence at the festivities tonight," she said. "I am glad you are here with us, Khadgar. I hope you consider this castle your home."

#

"I'll protect him. You have my word," Khadgar said, his voice firm. There was no doubt in him that he would continue to do that, no matter what. 

"I'll come if I'm able and if it's safe for me to do so," he added, a little sadly. The last thing he wanted was to sour the festivities with the unpredictable nature of his current affliction. But he would worry about that later; for now, he needed to find Anduin.

"I've called this my home for a while now," he said with a smile. "And I hope I'll keep calling it that for as long as you'll have me."

Sure that he had both given her the whole truth about the battle as well as reassured her, Khadgar took his leave to find Anduin. It wouldn't be fair of him to not warn Anduin that his sister knew everything now–whether or not he thought the man would be angry at him for what he'd divulged. 

#

Anduin was pouring over reports in the barracks from the battle. He had been so segregated, without his soldiers giving their accounts he would have been completely in the dark. He needed to know if the tactics they had used had worked, what the Orcs had at their disposal, any changes to their fighting style or information about their strategy, how they fought alongside the Night Elves...the list went on and on. They were about to enter another war on a different continent, but the enemy would at least be the same.

It was effective at getting his mind off everything but military strategy, and for the first time in several days Anduin felt a little calmer.

#

This time, at least, Anduin was easier to find–and wasn't drunk when Khadgar found him. So, a better situation in general, he hoped.

The guard didn't even try to stop him–in fact, the man stepped aside and just nodded at him as he walked right by and through the door. Khadgar had to hold back his laughter–that probably had to do less with Anduin giving approval for Khadgar to be here, and more that the poor man didn't want to get turned into a farm animal.

He found Anduin in the office where they'd first met, and he knocked twice before going on in. He looked over the stack of papers, and then up at Anduin fondly. "Working hard?" he asked, walking over to lean back against the desk next to where Anduin sat.

#

Anduin glanced up in surprise, then relaxed when he saw it was Khadgar. He was relieved to see the mage in relatively good spirits; he'd been afraid he would have been mad at him for abandoning him to face Taria by himself. 

"The reports are mostly good news," he said. "The Night Elves worked well alongside our soldiers, there have been very few complaints and most are personal in nature. We will need to train our horses alongside the Nightsabers. You would think that having faced Frostwolves they wouldn't be so skittish, but there were a few problems with horses running off." He tapped his pen against the table. "I think some language instruction for both sides may be in order as well. It's useless if you need a translator on a battlefield."

His mind flitted to Garona, and then briefly to Gul'dan. Knowing the Orc's language would have helped them numerous times. 

He couldn't help but be nervous about what Khadgar was there to tell him. He knew his sister liked to meddle, and he had no doubt she would have gotten the full story of the battle out of Khadgar. The mage didn't seem worried, though, for the first time in several days, so he had to be at least a little grateful for whatever she had said. 

#

Khadgar would have offered to help teach some of the soldiers Darnassian–but Darnassus had their own emissaries who were capable of that, and Khadgar had far too much else to worry about than language lessons. "From what I've heard, Dion has been picking up Darnassian fairly quickly. Can't imagine why," he said with a poorly hidden smile. "He can probably help get some of your other men started with the basics."

He was glad that Anduin seemed relaxed now; he hated to break that mood at all. It was the first time he'd seen him relaxed in a while.

"I talked with Taria," he finally said, and it could have passed for normal conversational tone if they didn't both know the implications of it. "Would have preferred a little backup, but I understand why you didn't come," he added after a moment, his words nothing but honest.

He looked up at Anduin with a smile. "You shouldn't have worried so much, you know."

#

"Sorry," Anduin said, not looking sorry at all. He shot Khadgar a quick smile. "And thank you. She's not your sister, and she's fond of you. Turn those big brown eyes on her and I doubt she could be annoyed by anything you'd have to say."

He was, of course, partially speaking from experience on that count. He leaned back in his chair so he could look at Khadgar better.

"You seem in better spirits," he commented. "Have you finally beaten your hangover?"

#

"Mostly," Khadgar said with a shrug. He still had an irritating headache, but it was leagues better than it had been earlier in the day. He was just happy that Anduin didn't seem upset that Khadgar had told Taria about what happened.

He leaned over and pulled Anduin into a slow, deep kiss; he hadn't had a chance to just relish in the fact that Anduin wasn't lost to him, that he could still do this at all. He could have lost him for good, and after seeing the sorrow in Taria's eyes when speaking about Llane, he was determined not to take that for granted ever again.

"I love you. You know that, right?" he asked, though it wasn't very effective to ask a question and then immediately pull Anduin back into the kiss before he got a chance to answer.

#

Anduin's eyebrows rose, but he wasn't protesting. It was much better than any conversation he'd been expecting to be having. He was also wondering what brought it on, but he suspected he didn't want to know the answer to that, either. 

He reached a hand behind Khadgar's head, encouraging him. He nipped gently at Khadgar's lower lip. 

He had been worried for a moment that Khadgar was going to force him to talk about whatever he and Taria had been discussing. 

Anduin let his eyes fall closed, enjoying the feel of Khadgar's mouth on his own.

#

Khadgar knew they would have to talk about it sometime– _sometime_ –but he didn't want it to be right now. He'd done enough talking, heard enough sorrow, enough grief; right now, he was just appreciating the fact that Anduin hadn't remained dead on that battlefield.

They could worry about the arcane, the fel, and any awkward discussions later.

He wasn't really paying enough attention to care that this probably wasn't the best place for this, in an office in the barracks where anyone could pass by the window or even step in. He found leaning over into the kiss awkward, so he moved to prop one knee on the chair next to Anduin's thigh, which quickly turned into him straddling the regent as he deepened the kiss eagerly.

#

In the back of his mind, Anduin was aware of the door not being locked, and the extremely open set of bars on the small window looking into the office. There was a small twinge of conscience about letting his soldiers see the regent and the Guardian kissing very unprofessionally in front of a stack of war briefings. 

He found he really didn't care, though. He had died for Light's sake. It was amazing to feel Khadgar alive in his arms, and more than that, it was affirming that he was still alive. He made an undignified noise as the mage actually sat in his lap.

His hands ran their way around Khadgar's back and neck, then up into his hair to pull him even closer.

#

Khadgar couldn't help the shudder that ran down his spine when Anduin's hands tangled in his hair, and he made a noise that sounded close to a whine into the kiss. 

He could feel that Anduin was definitely interested, though he was pretty sure he was going to draw the line at actually getting naked in here– _pretty_ sure, because his body and mind weren't really in agreement on that one as he rocked his hips down against Anduin's.

He suddenly broke the kiss with a breathless laugh, grinning at Anduin.  "The last time we were in here, you were throwing me down on the table. Which hurt, by the way," he pointed out, finding it far too amusing that months later in the same room they were doing _this_.

He definitely wouldn't have believed it back then.

#

"Mm," Anduin agreed. He slid his hands under Khadgar's thighs, and with a look that promised trouble, he rose, taking Khadgar with him, and set him down on the table. He pinned him in place with one leg and leaned over him, a wicked smile in place.

"I might be able to find a compass in this mess if you really want to recreate the experience, spell-chucker," Anduin said.

He leaned forward to kiss Khadgar, smiling into his mouth. He braced himself with one hand on the table by the mage's head, holding Khadgar's arm down with the other.

It was much gentler than their first meeting, of course, and Anduin stroked the inside of Khadgar's wrist with a thumb.

#

Khadgar's eyes widened and he flailed a little at first, at least until he figured out what Anduin was up to. Then, he couldn't help but laugh, because honestly, this was _ridiculous_.

And he was _totally_ okay with that.

"If you really wanted realism, I should be trying to arcane blast you through that door," he pointed out, though at the same time, he was pressing one knee up between Anduin's legs, with just enough pressure to tease.

He was probably laying on some pretty important documents, but he could blame Anduin for that. He shivered at the light touch to his wrist, his arm relaxing under Anduin's hold. 

#

Anduin took his free hand and stroked the side of Khadgar's face. "You could try," he said, then covered his mouth with his lips. 

He ran his hand down over Khadgar's arm, then the side of his waist, then over more sensitive areas between his legs. He felt Khadgar's length under his clothes. He palmed him as he rocked into Khadgar's leg.

#

Khadgar actually did whine this time, rocking his hips into the touch and gasping into the kiss. 

And oh, this was so not a good idea–not at all–but he couldn't bring himself to tell Anduin to stop, not when it felt this good. He slid his free hand under Anduin's shirt, the skin warm under his touch.

It wasn't enough, though. He shifted his legs to instead wrap around Anduin's waist, trying to force him in close, wanting more contact, unlocked door be damned.

#

Anduin had been about to call it off and end the teasing when Khadgar's legs wrapped around him. His hips bucked into Khadgar's as he made a throaty, surprised noise.

He pulled back his head, grinning. "The door's unlocked, " he pointed out breathlessly. "Did you really want to do this here?"

#

Khadgar dropped his head back against the desk with a 'thud' and a groan of frustration. Yes, he wanted to do this here, right now, but no, he didn't really want to do this _here_ , right beside an unlocked door. 

But anywhere private seemed so far away as to be daunting, given their current state.

"...what are our chances of getting away with this without getting caught?" he asked with a laugh, his voice lower and rougher than before. He couldn't stop the short, instinctive thrusts up against Anduin even as he spoke.

#

Anduin loosened Khadgar's belt. "Maybe it will teach whoever is lucky enough to find us a lesson about knocking." 

He wanted to do more than the location and supplies allowed, but he also couldn't imagine walking through Stormwind back to the castle with how hard he was. 

"You wear a lot of layers, spell-chucker," he whined.

#

Well, that wasn't exactly a reassuring answer, but Khadgar was too far gone on this to argue. 

"I was dressed for research in a cold library, not for... _this_ ," he pointed out with amusement, helping Anduin get his belt unfastened before reaching for Anduin's belt and trying to do the same thing as quickly as possible. They would have to be quick about this, and with how hard he was, he figured that wasn't going to be a problem.

Staying quiet, on the other hand, might be. There were probably people within earshot of anything above normal conversation volume. He reached up and pulled Anduin in for another eager, messy kiss as he finally got the man's belt open and out of the way.

#

Anduin kissed him back enthusiastically.  He tugged the front of Khadgar's pants open, then freed himself from his own with a groan. He wanted to do all sorts of things to the mage, but their options seemed like they should remain limited. 

"Help me, Khadgar, " he encouraged,  taking both their lengths in one hand. His grip wasn't quite large enough to cover both adequately. He rutted into his fist, his cock sliding against Khadgar's. He bent over to kiss him with an open mouth, tongue thrusting inside in time with their movements.

#

Khadgar moaned just a bit too loudly into the kiss, readily wrapping his own hand around their lengths as well, his hips bucking into the touch. Later–later, they would take this slow, they wouldn't have to worry about unlocked doors, but right now–

–right now, he didn't care. His heart was pounding against his ribs, his now freed hand reached up to tangle in Anduin's hair and hold him close, and he was just concentrating on the overwhelming sensations–and trying to stay reasonably quiet. He just wanted to soak in the fact that Anduin was alive, safe, and here with him. 

"Anduin," he gasped, breaking the kiss and dropping his head back against the desk as he dragged his thumb over the tips of both of their cocks.

#

"You're beautiful," Anduin whispered, his breathing jagged. He didn't even care that Khadgar's voice probably carried to the streets above. "I don't know what I did to deserve you." He kissed him. 

He shoved against him into their fists. His eyes roved over Khadgar's flushed face. "You saved me," he said desperately, suddenly. 

He meant more than just from death. He had been at the end of himself when Khadgar had come into his life. It seemed like a different world before he and the mage meant this to one another.

He pressed his forehead to Khadgar's, feeling his breath hot on his lips. "I love you," he said.

#

The words washed over Khadgar like waves, making everything feel more intense, more deep–he tried to stifle a groan and only somewhat succeeded, his legs tightening where they were wrapped around Anduin.

"Anduin," he moaned, his hips losing some of their rhythm as he pushed up into their combined grips. His other hand flailed for purchase on the desk, managing to knock a few things off the side of it before finding a grip on the edge.

He could feel the energy in him unraveling, the air humming around him–with his magic already unstable, it was harder to control it when he had this much stimulation to deal with. He knew his eyes were glowing, and he quickly and roughly kissed Anduin to keep from unintentionally casting, even as his back arched and his hips jerked with release. It didn't stifle the loud moan, but at least he didn't set anything on fire accidentally.

#

Anduin came shuddering into Khadgar, and dimly he was aware that they had released at the same time. Unable to hold himself up while he was overcome with pleasure, he buckled over Khadgar's body with a shout.

Which meant they had probably four seconds of privacy left.

Anduin stood up hastily, giving Khadgar a quick but not hard swat. "Get up," he hissed, tucking himself back into his pants and turning away from the door.

#

Khadgar scrambled to get decent, and managed it only moments before a soldier was pushing the door open, a hand on his sword, probably expecting an attacker. Instead, he found a very disheveled and out of breath Regent and Guardian, and he froze.

"Um...is everything alright?" he asked in a very small voice, and Khadgar tried to think fast. Unfortunately, post–orgasm, the mind is anything but 'fast', and he went with the first excuse he could come up with. 

"We're fine. I, uh...messed up a spell," he said, and the guard's eyes narrowed suspiciously–and Khadgar thought he saw the hint of a blush inside that helmet, too. 

Luckily, suspicious or not, the guard had enough self–preservation instincts to know not to speak his mind in this case. "Uh. Right. Well...I'll be back at my post. Down the hall. If you need me," he stuttered with an abbreviated bow before making a hasty retreat.

#

"Thank you," Anduin called after the guard snarkily with a grin. 

The grin turned into a warm, gentler smile as he glanced at Khadgar out of the corner of his eyes to see his reaction.

"You're fun," he said lightly, laughing, enjoying how disheveled Khadgar was. He looked ravaged, and he liked knowing that he was why. 

He also liked the new element of the arcane that was appearing as he made the mage lose control. It added a hint of danger, which to the warrior made his pulse race. He didn't know if it was just a harmless side–effect, or something more, and they should talk about it–but knowing he had someone with that much power at his mercy was definitely intoxicating. 

He still didn't know why exactly Khadgar loved him so much, but he wasn't looking to question it. 

#

"I think we scarred him for life," Khadgar said, chuckling back, though he didn't sound too sorry about it. It was hard to be, considering how good he felt right about now.

He flinched as he pressed a hand to the small of his back. "Next time, we're using a bed," he muttered, though not without a hint of humor. It was worth the temporary pain.

He raised his eyebrows at Anduin and gave him a grin. "Ready to learn some magic?" he asked. "The sooner we start, the sooner we'll be ready to fix this and get on with the fel problem."

#

Anduin blanched. "Right now?" 

The joy he'd been feeling fizzled into a wary foreboding. Was that Khadgar's tactic, then–ply him with sex and then toss large problems into his lap?

He'd almost have preferred that Khadgar had been there to talk to him about Taria. The mage had said that he would be rooting in his mind, and that it would be dangerous. Anduin wouldn't have been happy about that even with adequate warning and preparation. 

He bent and began slowly gathering up everything that had been shoved off his desk. "You made a mess," he complained to cover his nervousness. 

#

Khadgar rolled his eyes. "I'm not asking you to do the whole spell right now. Just the part where I lend you some of my powers," he pointed out. There was no reason to be anxious about this part–after all, the chances of it going wrong were incredibly remote.

"It won't even be enough to do any damage or hurt anyone. You'll just need time to get used to it and some practice before you can actually use it for the final spell," he added, helping Anduin gather the fallen papers. "It'll probably be a day or two before you're comfortable enough to do the spell anyway."

He gave Anduin an encouraging smile. "This is the easy part. Honest."

#

"I can see _no way_  this will go wrong, especially not right before I'm supposed to make a public appearance at the feast tonight," Anduin said, standing and rooting through his papers without looking Khadgar in the eye.

Yes, he said he'd do this, and he knew Khadgar wouldn't be asking him if it weren't necessary, But that didn't mean he had to be happy about it. 

"You know I trust you, spell-chucker." Anduin added. "I'm just not sure I trust myself. Not with your mind. Not with magic."

He sorted the reports as best he could and picked up the last odds and ends on the floor, holding a gold lionhead paperweight and transferring it from one hand to the other as he thought.

He felt a flash of anger at Medivh. He should be the one to have dealt with all of this, not the one to have caused it. He still wasn't able to move past that incomprehensible bit of fact. 

#

"Anduin," Khadgar said, grabbing the paperweight from Anduin's hands and setting it aside so he could take both of Anduin's hands in his. "There's no one I trust more than you to do this. No one."

He smiled and leaned in to kiss Anduin lightly. "But if you want, we'll wait till after the festivities tonight to start. I mean, the worst you could do with what you'll have available is cause a bit of a light show, but we wouldn't want to unnerve our new allies," he said, and then he snorted and shook his head. "I think I've unnerved them enough as it is, after all."

He really did trust that Anduin could do this. Anduin was the strongest, most courageous, most noble man that Khadgar knew; he would trust Anduin with this over any average mage. 

#

Anduin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

When he looked up again, his eyes were serious. "If you need me to have time to adjust, do what you have to. I'll trust your judgment. I don't want to make you wait longer than you must. I'm here to support you and I'm sorry for..." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'll do this for you."

He squeezed Khadgar's hands lightly in his own. 

Khadgar was suffering; he had to remember that. He was being selfish by letting his fear get the best of him.

#

"Don't apologize. This is...a big favor, to say the least. I should be apologizing to you for having to put you through this," Khadgar said, feeling a bit bad that this was obviously stressing Anduin out, having to do this. 

He kissed Anduin one more time, and then stepped back and pulled the chair away from the desk. "You'll want to sit down for this," he said, gesturing to the chair and going through the spell in his head one more time.   
  
It _was_ a low risk spell, but there was always the slightest chance of something going wrong. 

#

"Taking care of you is not a favor," Anduin said, suddenly realizing something he should have realized a long time ago.

He had not once been able to keep those he loved safe. Not in the end. A thousand small moments he had been able to protect had amounted to nothing.

Until this last battle, when he had killed himself to save Khadgar. 

Maybe this was just a small moment.

He owed the mage everything.

He sat down quietly.

#

"Alright. Hold still," Khadgar said, and then he placed his hands gently on both sides of Anduin's head, lightly enough that he could pull away if he wanted to

" _Fara'la'an tularis,_ " he said, focusing on drawing out what he needed to–just enough energy that Anduin would be able to do a little practice and the spell he needed to do, and nothing more. His hands and eyes began to glow arcane blue, and he kept an iron grip on his control of the spell–at least on Anduin's side of it, anyway. He didn't want to overwhelm him. " _Hen'lar tul'anan, anar'belore tu an_."

He felt a rush of weakness as the spell took hold, and his legs nearly buckled–he had to lean back against the desk to keep from falling. But that had been expected. Anduin's eyes glowed blue for just a moment, and Khadgar gave him an expectant look. He opened his mouth to ask how Anduin felt and–

–nothing came out.

Khadgar's hand flew to his throat as the realization hit him. He tried again to speak, but it was a futile effort.

Of all the ways the spell could have gone wrong–it had to be _this_? 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger!


	12. Twelfth Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anduin practices magic, Khadgar tries to manage without his voice, and the Dark Irons make a reappearance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!

_Anduin's eyes glowed blue for just a moment, and Khadgar gave him an expectant look. He opened his mouth to ask how Anduin felt and–_

_–nothing came out._

_Khadgar's hand flew to his throat as the realization hit him. He tried again to speak, but it was a futile effort._

_Of all the ways the spell could have gone wrong–it had to be_ this _?_

#

All Anduin felt at first was a light tingle from where Khadgar's fingers were gently embracing him. He had almost relaxed, when suddenly there was a rush of otherness that filled him in a dizzying rush. He gasped and swayed, almost overwhelmed by the new sensation. It was like he'd been given a new sense entirely, and in fact that was exactly what had happened. He felt the arcane dancing along the inside of his body, and the strangest thing was that it felt like Khadgar himself had filled him. Like he could feel a piece of the mage's soul alongside his own. 

He looked up in wonder, but his awe was quickly doused as he saw Khadgar patting his throat. For a horrible moment he thought the mage was choking.

"Khadgar. Khadgar!" His voice was panicked. He grabbed his arms, feeling another buzz of electricity from where they made contact. 

Khadgar was moving his lips as if he were trying to talk. Anduin's blood ran cold. "What's happening? What can I do?"

#

As soon as Anduin grabbed onto him, Khadgar could feel the presence of the arcane in the other man–and that's how he knew it worked. At least, mostly. Obviously he hadn't seen this little complication–that the 'sacrifice of arcane energy' the spell talked about might strip him of his most powerful tool in spell casting. 

There were very few spells he could do without speaking, and none of them any use in battle.

He swallowed hard, trying to fight down the instinctive panic of having his one defensive tool stripped away. He was in a safe place, and the spell had technically worked–as soon as they completed the rest of it, he would be back to normal. They could still do this.

He looked up at Anduin and touched his throat and shook his head, trying to get the point across. Then, he turned and fumbled on the desk for a blank parchment and a quill, still having to lean against the desk, his whole body weak.

 _It worked_. _Mostly._  He wrote in his scrawled, yet elegant handwriting. _Didn't know this would happen, but it did work._

#

Anduin's eyes went wide with panic. "You can't talk? How are you going to teach me the spells?" His voice bordered on shrill.

 _Wait, calm down._  He remembered suddenly Khadgar's reactions to being muffled.  _He's not going to like this._

He forced himself to breathe, remembering the wide eyes that had stared up at him during their first meeting. Khadgar had been close to terror when he covered his mouth with his hand, though he had tried to hide it admirably. 

Anduin pulled Khadgar close to him. It was like they were connected, in some way, and not unpleasantly. "You'll write them, of course." He said. "Don't worry. You'll teach me how to do this and you'll have all your control back. In the meantime, just be patient with me. I don't know what to do with this." He kissed his head. "Can you feel it? I feel like I can feel you, in a way. Inside of me." He pulled back to smile down at Khadgar. "Don't worry. We'll fix this."

He grinned a little. "In the meantime, maybe you'll finally train with me using a weapon, hm?"

#

Khadgar's brow furrowed with worry at first, because if Anduin started panicking now, then there was no telling how this would go–he trusted Anduin, yes, but he'd rather the man not be panicking while learning how to mess with barriers inside the mage's head. 

But Anduin seemed to calm himself down, and the next thing Khadgar knew, he was being pulled in close–and he wasn't complaining. He needed it right now, even if he couldn't say it.

 _Of course I'll write them, you idiot_ , he thought fondly, returning the hug before pulling back and nodding enthusiastically. He could feel it, definitely.

He smacked Anduin on the shoulder for the training comment, but then took Anduin's hand and held it palm out in front of him, placing his own against it. He didn't need to speak to call out to his own arcane energy; when he focused, Anduin's hand lit up blue along with his own.

 _See? We can both feel it_ , he thought, giving Anduin a triumphant look. There was something about Anduin using magic, even temporarily, that made Khadgar feel that much closer to him.

It distracted him from the elephant in the room, so to speak–the panic over that would probably come later, knowing his luck.

#

Anduin looked at their hands in wonder. "This is incredible," he said. "I thought it would...I didn't know how this would feel. But it feels like...you."

He looked back to Khadgar's face and gave him a smile. He was concerned about Khadgar's lack of reaction to losing what was essentially his defense and only weapon. He hoped the mage knew he didn't need it when Anduin was present, but he remembered wandering through the city and finding Khadgar backed up in an alley with two low–life thugs and felt a flash of protective worry. 

"If I can't be by your side, we'll get Mustard or Thelae to accompany you until you get your voice back," he suggested. "But as long as you don't mind some rounds of an infirmary tent and the stables, that shouldn't be for a day at least that I won't be able to be with you."

He also knew Khadgar was as independent as a cat, and he didn't want to smother the mage, but he couldn't really see what choice they had. He supposed Khadgar would be safe enough as long as he stayed in the castle, but short of tying him up that didn't seem to be guaranteed.

His eyes flicked back to his hands. "How do I...teach me something," he asked.

#

Khadgar gave Anduin a frown. One part of him abhorred the thought of being babysat–but another part of him remembered with a shiver the feeling of a hand clamped over his mouth, the feeling of helplessness.

But he was sufficiently distracted by the thought of teaching Anduin a spell. He grabbed the parchment and quill and scribbled down a quick incantation– _Ka'ala tu aran falah._ Then he scribbled instructions next to it _–Focus on water. Every detail of it. Imagine it filling the cup._

He showed the parchment to Anduin, then slid the empty cup across the desk–and promptly cleared the area around it on the desk, too. If this was anything like his first attempts at magic, this could get messy. He was already trying to contain his smirk at what was probably about to happen. 

#

Anduin raised an eyebrow. "Don't trust me much for someone who expects me to root around in their mind, do you, spell-chucker?" He asked, surveying Khadgar's pre-emptive sweep of his desk. 

He took a deep breath. He tried to remember if there was any special emphasis Khadgar had placed on his incantations, but without being able to hear Khadgar in that moment his memory just wasn't sufficient.

_Picture the glass. Picture it filling. Picture the water._

But unfortunately for Anduin, he had never been that great at languages. " _Ka'ala tu aran falah,"_  he tried. _But was it "ay" or "ah"?_

Whatever it was, it wasn't what he said. The positive was that water was summoned. The negative that sure enough to Khadgar's predictions, it went pouring out from the sides of the glass to soak his desk and drip onto the floor.

He got a small amount of satisfaction from it soaking Khadgar's crotch, because the mage looked far too amused. He crossed his arms in irritation.

"I'll get it," he said with determination, with a wry smile at the mage.

He spoke it again, changing the intonation just slightly. This time, the glass filled halfway, the rest spilling over the table. His breath caught in his throat. To be able to pull something from nothing, create sustenance from thin air...

He lost his smile. Already he could feel what it would be like when Khadgar took his powers back. He looked to Khadgar's face, marveling that this was so innate to the other man. What was he ever doing, looking to Anduin for anything? 

One more time, he decided. He drank the water and spoke the words again, this time with focus. 

The glass filled.

#

Khadgar gave Anduin a look and stepped back as he was splashed with the water, but his displeasure didn't last long. He was too amused by Anduin's attempts, and his dogged determination to get it right.

It was something he recognized from himself–the inability to leave it alone until he'd performed it just right.

Though the sight of Anduin's eyes lighting up with arcane magic was distracting, to say the least. It wasn't...wrong, but it was something foreign to him, and it would definitely take some getting used to it. He couldn't help but watch Anduin's face on his second attempt, admire that light in his already blue eyes.

When Anduin stopped smiling and looked at him, Khadgar frowned and cocked his head. He wanted to ask what that look was for, and found himself frustrated at his lack of ability to do so; and he couldn't communicate the question before Anduin was turning his attention back to the cup. And this time, he did it perfectly, and Khadgar grinned.

He grabbed the parchment and wrote down a quick ' _You're a natural'_ , showing it to Anduin with a proud look. Hell, Anduin seemed to learn faster than a few of his classmates back in Dalaran. 

#

Anduin beamed under the praise. It still felt so, so very weird that he had been able to do that in the first place, but nonetheless, it felt like he had performed a miracle.

And this was Khadgar's everyday life. 

"I still don't know how to feel about this," he said, gesturing slightly with his hands. "But that was incredible." He took Khadgar's collar and gently pulled him forward into a kiss. 

"Does this really feel normal for you?" He asked. He couldn't imagine anyone getting used to it. In a battle, he knew he would prefer steel–it was too much of a liability, being able to be silenced, and the thrum of the arcane felt unpredictable and wild. It was such a small portion of what made up Khadgar that it made him thrill with alarm at the thought of being filled with all of it. 

#

Khadgar smiled into the kiss, a warmth in his chest that he'd come to associate with Anduin–this time, that Anduin seemed to show a genuine fascination with the arcane, now that he'd been able to try it. 

He nodded in response to the question, then reached down to scrawl on the parchment, ' _First spell before I could walk_ '. He didn't remember much about his life before Dalaran, but he remembered his parents bragging about that, about how their child would one day be a great mage in the Kirin Tor.

...well, they were hopefully right on one of those, at least. 

Magic was every day for him. It was such a big part of him, he wasn't sure who he would be without it. 

Which is why his stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought of being silenced. 

And it was obvious he was already uncomfortable when Dion opened the door, and Khadgar jumped and turned like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He didn't want his back to anyone right now, that much was an instinctive reaction. Dion gave him an odd look, but luckily didn't comment.

"Regent, Guardian; if you're going to the feast, you should probably get ready. It's in less than an hour," he said, and Khadgar tensed up and went slightly pale.

A silenced mage, in a crowded room of mostly strangers? The idea made him feel a bit ill. 

#

Anduin frowned. "Dion, get in here. Shut the door."

Dion looked between them like the regent and the Guardian were actually going to attack him. Anduin supposed with Khadgar's pants still drenched, the desk cleared off and soaking wet, and the two of them obviously still mussed up from their earlier activities, they didn't make the most welcoming of hosts.

Rolling his eyes, Anduin grabbed the guard by his chestplate and pulled him inside, shutting the door with his foot. 

He put his hands on Khadgar's shoulders supportively. "This isn't to leave this room, got that?"

The guard hesitated, his eyes flicking from Khadgar's face to the rest of the room. Anduin gave him a grim smile. Finally, Dion nodded. "Yes, of course, my lord."

"Good," Anduin said, a hint of steel to his voice. "You're assigned to Khadgar and only Khadgar for the next couple of days. You watch out for him. I know you do anyway, but Khadgar–" he gave the mage's arms a squeeze, as if he could convince him to behave through sheer force of will, "Will need you to stay close. He's lost his voice. He can't cast spells, which means he can't defend himself. You may tell Thelae if you need relief but no one else."

#

Khadgar sighed, and obviously would have had some comment about the matter of he wouldn't have had to grab parchment and quill to voice it.

Dion's eyes widened a bit comically, though. "He's not going to attend the feast, is he? We...wouldn't be able to keep that quiet," he said, and Khadgar bristled. He was right here, still in the room, thanks–he was mute, not deaf. He didn't like being talked about like he wasn't even here. 

He did shake his head in the negative, though. The last thing he wanted to do was go try and mingle with a bunch of strangers, some of which might see a mute mage as a convenient target. Guardian or not, there were still individuals who thought the king's dependence on the Mage was unadvisable at best.

"Aren't we going to tell the Queen?" Dion added after a moment, looking nervous. He obviously didn't like the idea of keeping anything from Taria. But he also couldn't seem to stem his curiosity. "How long will this last? Was he cursed?"

#

Anduin shook his head. "We'll have to tell Queen Taria, of course, but I will do that, not you." 

He frowned at Khadgar. He was hoping that he would be there with him that night. It was not going to be easy facing a room full of expectant citizens and soldiers and have to relieve his own death, having to justify how he was still alive when so many of their comrades remained fallen. 

"It would be for the best if you weren't present," he agreed finally. "Taria will understand, and anyone who is upset by your absence will forget soon enough. Our last guardian was never present here, that at least is in your favor." He couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice. "I'll make any excuses I'll have to."

Anduin sighed, and held out the water glass to Dion. He gave him a pointed look. "Drink."

Dion actually flinched.

"It's not poison, man," Anduin snapped. "Drink." 

Dion drank the water. Anduin grinned at him. 

He repeated the spell from before, the glass filling as it had in his last attempt.

Dion dropped it. Anduin reached with his warrior's reflexes and caught it before it could hit the floor. "Our Guardian gave me some of his powers to fix the problem he's been having controlling the arcane. It made him lose his voice in the process. I'm only telling you because you're the nosiest guard I know. So keep it to yourself, hm?"

#

Khadgar felt bad about not going; but at the same time, if Anduin wanted to keep this issue a secret, going would ruin that only an hour in. 

But at the same time, he felt like a coward. He felt like he was leaving Anduin alone, again, and he'd done nothing but regret the last time he did that. 

He grinned brightly as Anduin refilled the cup of water in Dion's hands; he really was a fast learner. Khadgar liked to think he was a good teacher, too, but him being mute right now made him doubt that was the case. 

He suddenly grabbed the parchment and quill, and hastily scrawled, ' _Changed my mind. I'm going._ ' He didn't bother writing out his explanation, hoping that Anduin would understand.

Dion looked horrified. "But..." he started to protest, but Khadgar just patted him on the shoulder as he walked by him to the door, then gave Anduin a look that said, _you coming_?

#

Anduin frowned again. He'd liked the bright look of happiness on Khadgar's face when he managed to repeat the spell, but his sudden change of heart about the feast when he'd already said earlier he hadn't wanted to go had him concerned.

Not that the thought of having him there didn't fill his chest with warmth.  Although...

"These powers I have aren't dangerous, are they?" He asked Khadgar. Was it that the mage wanted to keep an eye on him? He wouldn't complain if that were the case, but he wanted to make sure he wasn't going to cause Khadgar problems. It was going to be hard to keep people from talking to the Guardian. "If they aren't, and you don't need to be with me to keep the arcane in check, don't worry. I didn't think you wanted to go to this."

Anduin followed Khadgar out of the barracks, Dion falling in line behind them.

#

Khadgar shook his head insistently–no, they weren't dangerous. The worst he could do is maybe set a tablecloth on fire, which would be startling for sure, but only deadly to the foolish.

And now came the frustration–the fact that Anduin was guessing wrong, and Khadgar had no way of correcting his assumptions, not without writing down his thoughts. He took a deep breath to quell the frustration, and then shook his head again and then held up his hands to get Anduin to stop asking questions he couldn't answer, at least not until they got back to their room, where he had all his writing supplies. He mimicked writing in air, then nodded once in the direction they were going. 

 _I'll explain when we get there, okay?_ He thought, as if thinking it hard enough would get the message through. 

This was even more frustrating than he initially imagined; after all, he depended on his voice for a lot more than his magic. 

#

Anduin laughed a little. "You're very cute when you can't talk, Guardian," he teased, but he got Khadgar's message loud and clear.

They made their way through Stormwind and back up to their room. Anduin turned to Dion. "On second thought, can you please relay to the Queen that Khadgar has lost his voice? Tell her I'll explain later, but there's no time for me to go to her now before the festivities start. Just ask her to please not call on him to talk."

Dion saluted and left. 

Anduin shook his head. "I'm never sure if that one will follow orders or not," he said musingly. He turned back to Khadgar and gestured at the desk. "Okay, you wanted to talk. We don't have a lot of time, though, so write fast. Why this change of heart?"

#

Khadgar resisted the urge to smack Anduin for the comment; he was certainly not _cute_. In his opinion, anyway.

He went straight to the desk and grabbed the quill there, dipping it in ink and starting to write. 

 _I'm not going to run because of this_ , he wrote, _and they'll only become more wary if their Guardian is constantly absent. Besides, the castle is the safest place I could be._

He paused, and then he added with a smile, _and I'm not leaving you alone to do all the bureaucracy without some support. Not this time._

He handed the page to Anduin, and then crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to argue.

#

Anduin blinked at the paper, then at Khadgar. "I'll be..." He cleared his throat. _Fine,_  he finished in his head.

Why was it he always wanted to lie to Khadgar about what he actually felt? 

He looked back down at the words. He traced them with one thumb. _'Not this time.'_ What was Khadgar thinking of, he wondered? 

Khadgar looked determined. Letting his guard down, for once, Anduin nodded, and the gratefulness showed on his face. "I honestly would appreciate you being there with me," he admitted in a low voice. 

He didn't have to say why, but based on Khadgar's uncanny perceptiveness, he might not need to. 

He looked down at the paper again, and closed his eyes briefly. Maybe it was Khadgar's silence that encouraged him into speaking more. He only felt like keeping this feeling of unjustness inside of him was like keeping a guilty secret.

"I don't know how I can justify my life after dying when so many remain dead," he said. It sounded like he was dragging glass from his own throat. "And I will have to, tonight. I know Taria will couch it in terms of 'regent' and 'blessed' and 'by the Goddess' will', and I'm certain that will be enough for most, because it will give them a leader to follow in me. But I can't justify it to myself, Khadgar. I know you had some hand in it and it was not Elune herself, and by the Light I am glad to be alive, but I can't justify it."

Anduin dragged a hand over his face. 

#

Khadgar was happy, at first, that Anduin so easily gave in for once; but that quickly turned to concern when he kept talking. He'd heard the same sentiment from Taria, and of course she'd been right; but it was one thing to hear it from her, and another thing to hear it directly from Anduin himself.

He shook his head fiercely and pulled Anduin into a tight hug, almost tight enough to hurt. Then, he pulled away, grabbed at the quill in an almost violent gesture, and wrote two sentences on the parchment.

_You don't have to justify it. You just have to keep living in a way that you know those you lost would be proud of._

He shoved the paper in Anduin's direction, his expression almost pleading. He didn't want Anduin to feel like he had to justify what had happened; it had been Khadgar that was responsible, and if Anduin had stayed dead, Khadgar was certain he would have followed.

He didn't want to live in a world without Anduin.

#

Anduin returned the hug, almost as forcefully. He felt bereft when Khadgar moved away again.

He looked at the paper when it was thrust into his hands. He stared it for a long moment, reading and re-reading the words. 

He knew that on some level already. It helped to see Khadgar's handwriting telling him the same. 

But it was so much easier known than done. His eyes suddenly stinging, he folded up the parchment and put it in his desk drawer. Perhaps, if he needed the reminder, being able to look at it would help. He had lost so many loved ones, but Khadgar was certainly now too someone he loved. It meant something, having such a thought come from him. 

"I'm so grateful for you," he told Khadgar. He was the one thing keeping him sane, at times. He gave him a quick smile, uncomfortable with what he'd admitted to, then went to his wardrobe to pull out the finery required of a feast.

"I can take these to your quarters to change," he said. "If we're stopped in the hallway I can speak for you then."

#

Khadgar was surprised and glad when Anduin actually folded the note and tucked it away somewhere to keep; he'd hoped it would make some impact, however small, and it seemed it did. 

He watched Anduin gather his things, and gave a frustrated look to the table when he offered to come with him; he suddenly wished it wouldn't be so inconvenient to carry around parchment, ink, and quill. He sighed and nodded, feeling much like a child who needed help with half of the normal daily tasks. 

He led the way down to his own quarters, barely used aside from storing some of his things, and he found some of his nicer clothes to wear–not the fancy things that he'd used for the festivals, because Taria hadn't told him to dress in his best, so he was going to take advantage of that and be comfortable. 

He got dressed quickly and waited for Anduin to do the same, though he found he was getting nervous now, the closer the time came to the feast. He shifted uncomfortably, one hand reaching up to rub at his throat; he thought back on a bad joke people used to toss around when dueling in Dalaran.

What was another name for a silenced mage? A corpse. 

  
#

Anduin dressed and turned to Khadgar just in time to see him clutch at his throat. 

"Khadgar," he said, gently, and firmly. "You don't have to do this."

He walked over to him and took his hand in his own, bringing the knuckles to his mouth to kiss. "It means a lot to me that you would offer, but I know you didn't want to come before and I imagine you feel worse about it now. I'm used to events like these, you've never seemed happy about attending a public celebration."

He reached up to cup his cheek before running his fingers through the mage's hair with a tender smile. 

Yes, he was personally dreading it, but he would have to listen to Taria's speech whether or not Khadgar was with him. Yes, it would be easier on him to have the mage next to him, but it wasn't necessary.

"I'll be all right," he finished stoically. 

#

Khadgar couldn't help but lean into the touch when Anduin ran his fingers through his hair, much like a cat would; he always found comfort in Anduin, even in the worst of situations. 

It was only fair that he offered the same support to Anduin. He wasn't going to run and hide because of this. The people needed to see that he wasn't the same kind of Guardian Medivh had been; reclusive and untouchable. The more people saw of him, even when he wasn't at his best, the more they would trust him. 

He shook his head stubbornly and grabbed onto Anduin's hand with what he hoped was a reassuring smile, pulling him out the door and into the hall. He could do this.

Dion stopped them in the hall, looking nervous and frazzled for once. "Regent, Guardian," he said, his voice a little frantic. "Representatives of the Dark Iron Dwarves have arrived. Taria has decided to invite them to the feast to try and win some favor with them before negotiations."

Khadgar's stomach sank and his grip tightened on Anduin's hand; maybe he couldn't do this. 

#

 "Now, the Dark Irons come?" He asked incredulously.

He gripped Khadgar's hand reassuringly. 

"You handled them before without magic," he muttered to the Guardian. "You can do it again. I'll be dealing with them and I'll be right by your side. And this time, they're in our halls."

Since it was only Dion, Anduin snuck a quick kiss.

#

Khadgar _had_ handled them before without magic–but it certainly wasn't a pleasant experience. At least Anduin wasn't muted; he seemed to do better in negotiating with them than a mage could ever do.

Nonetheless, he wasn't about to back out because the Dark Iron had come into the picture. He squeezed Anduin's hand right back and returned the kiss readily, determined to see this through. 

"Evidently, our actions in the south have caused two orc factions to move northward into their territory," Dion explained softly, well versed in ignoring their public displays of affection. "They're demanding aid since, according to them, we're the cause of their present troubles. Specifically 'our mage'," he added, not without a growl to his tone that said he was not impressed with their disdain toward Khadgar.

Khadgar rolled his eyes and would have groaned in annoyance, if he could. Of course they hadn't come to offer aid in the fight; they'd only found a reason to complain and make demands. 

#

Anduin pinched the bridge of his nose.  "Yes. Of course. Which is exactly what we had warned them of."

He shook his head. "I give you permission as regent to glare at them as forebodingly as you are able," he suggested to Khadgar with a sideways smile. 

"Also," he added, "The last time they were not trying to harm the sitting ruler's lover." The curve to his lips turned a little sharp. "And I am not the only one who will be there tonight who is aware of that now."

He drew in a breath and focused his ire into more tactical thoughts. "Regardless, if they are coming to us for aid and demands, this is a good sign. We have something to bargain with, and the Dark Iron armies would make excellent allies."

#

As if Khadgar would need permission for that. He had the feeling he'd need to glare, just to cryand keep them from thinking they could take advantage of his current state.

He was suddenly glad for the need to know and speak an incantation to cast a spell, because he had the feeling that tonight, Anduin would have trouble restraining the urge to throw frost lances at those Dwarves. 

"Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous, my lord, but I don't trust them. I put them under double the normal escort guard," Dion said, still sounding as if he'd rather drop kick them off a cliff than allow them in the city at all.

Khadgar took a deep breath. He didn't like this–already hadn't liked it, even before the Dark Iron were involved–but there was no helping it now. He smirked at Anduin and gave him a half-hearted shrug, squeezing his hand to let him know he was still ready for this.  

Dion, meanwhile, gave Khadgar a worried look, but seemed to bite his tongue before he could express doubts about having the Guardian there when he was silenced.

#

Anduin took some strength from Khadgar's apparent willingness to brave what was to come.

"Thank you, Dion," he said. "That was exactly the right thing to do."

He felt the magic that Khadgar had placed in him crackling just under his skin. He wished he knew how to cast anything other than a water spell, but he hadn't needed magic before. His sword would be good enough to curtail any trouble they wanted to start.

"It may be to our advantage, this timing of theirs. They will not likely enjoy the Night Elves, but they will see that our alliances are growing. They will have no choice but to admit that we would make them a strong ally, or a formidable threat if they do not join us."

#

Khadgar wasn't sure he agreed. The Dark Iron didn't think about war the same way as the humans and the Night Elves might–they saw it as them versus everyone else, rather than a possibility for unification.

Khadgar was convinced that the Titan artifacts had somehow changed them for the worse.

Dion led them the rest of the way to the banquet hall, and held open the door for them. "I'll be by your side the whole evening. Don't hesitate to let me know if anything seems amiss," he said, and Khadgar gave him a grateful smile–for all the things they put their guards through, Dion had taken it all in stride.

When they walked in, people were already mingling before the meal, chatting in small groups; Taria was standing with two of the Dark Iron representatives, and she waved them over with a strained smile. 

"Lothar. Guardian," she said, and her face said it all–she was uncomfortable with this. "This is Bardum Forgefire and Fenlorn Ironhammer. They're in charge of the group here representing the Dark Iron."

#

Anduin nodded his head at the two representatives with a cool expression, but did not extend his hand. "Some time has passed since we were...guests...among your people," Anduin said. "I think you'll find our hospitality a fair amount more welcoming." He waved over a servant. "Please set them chairs near to us. They will join us for the feast tonight."

The Dark Irons visibly bristled. "We're not sneaking around on your lands the way you and this–" Bardum said a Dwarven word Anduin didn't know but could guess at. "Were doing, from my understanding of matters."

Taria was giving him a pleading, almost desperate look, so Anduin relented. "It's good timing that you've come," he said. "You are of course welcome here tonight. We are celebrating a victory in the south, of which you will hear as the night progresses. We are hosting other guests as well from Kalimdor, the continent across the sea. The High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind of Darnassus graces us with her presence. We are honoring our alliance as well as our hard-fought battle."

The two Dwarves gave each other irked glances. 

"We're aware of your 'victory', Regent," Fenlorn said gruffly. "We have been talking with your Queen about just that. You owe us your help for stirring up that hornet's nest. They've come north, your invaders."

 _Aha._  That explained the discomfort Taria was exuding. 

"Who we warned you about before," Anduin said testily. "And we offered our assistance before the Orcs became a direct threat to your lands."

"Please," Taria said, her voice like a bell. "Do not disgrace us by beginning these talks before our feast. You have come at an opportune time to celebrate with us. If you would prefer, our guards can instead show you to your rooms to wait until we can speak with you more privately."

#

Khadgar really wasn't surprised at their hostility, and he could tell that Dion was hovering closer than usual to the three of them as they talked. But the Dark Irons' bristly attitudes were starting to catch attention, and Khadgar doubted that it was the right kind of attention for what was supposed to be a celebration.

He touched Anduin's shoulder, unfazed by the foul name he'd been called–he had expected it, really–and he tilted his head toward a few guests who were starting to look toward the group with curiosity. 

The one named Fenlorn zeroed in on the movement, giving Khadgar a confused, yet disgusted look. "Too good to speak to us then, mage?" Fenlorn said, and Khadgar didn't hesitate to send him a glare; he even saw Dion tense from the corner of his eye. The other Dwarf, though, turned his attention back to Taria.

"Of course. You're right," he said, though his tone was just on the edge of condescending. "We'll celebrate your...victory with you. Negotiations can wait."

#

"I am so pleased," Taria said. "I know how worried you must be for your lands. You are kind for your patience."

She sent Anduin a look that contained most of what he was feeling as they turned away from the Dwarves and their new guests were shown to their places. 

"Do not worry, either of you," Taria said. "I will be very anxious to hear the reasons later, but for now I know well enough not to call on Khadgar tonight. Rest easy."

It did lighten Anduin's heart to hear that much. He sent Khadgar a relieved look as they took their seats. 

Tyrande Whisperwind was already in the place of honor by Taria. She said her greetings to them, but gave Anduin a second, more careful look. 

He gave her an innocuous smile, but had the deep suspicion she could tell he was full of Khadgar's magic. 

A bell rang out for silence across the hall. The babble of chatter, a mix of Common and Darnassian, subsided. Taria stood, her hands clasped in front of her. 

"My people and allies," she began. "Thank you for your presence with us tonight. We have been graced by the High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind, who sits beside me. Our alliance may be new, but I know the friendship between our peoples will only grow in strength. We thank you for fighting beside us, and we will lend our aid on Kalimdor in return."

The Dark Irons, whom Anduin was watching closely, exchanged belligerent looks. He tapped his forefinger on the table beside his plate. 

Tyrande stood up then, and called out to her own people in Darnassian. The two leaders took each others' hands in a symbol of goodwill and peace, and the room was filled with claps and cheers.

"I have an incredible story for you tonight," Taria continued as Tyrande sat back down. On the other side of her, Thelae stood. "Our battle in the south was victorious. It was not without sacrifice. No war can be fought without losses. We honor our dead tonight as much as the living."

Thelae translated for her people.

Anduin clenched the tablecloth by his knees with a fist. 

"The story of the battle is the stuff of legend," Taria said. "Many of you were there. Many of you saw with your eyes. But for those who were not, I am here to affirm that the Goddess Elune blessed our fight against the Orcs."

The room's atmosphere shifted. It became expectant. There were a few murmured conversations. 

"Our regent and Supreme Commander Anduin Lothar sacrificed his life to cut down the warlock Gul'dan in battle. He died. This is a fact. You see him sitting beside me, however, because of the grace of Elune herself. She blessed Azeroth's Guardian Khadgar." Taria smiled down at him. "Khadgar protected our people with the Goddess' blessing. He struck down Gul'dan. He felled a demon. He was able to give the blessing of a second life to your king. My words may sound incredible, but they are the truth. We were victorious in the south."

There was a shocked silence. 

"Baloney!" One of the Dark Irons suddenly shouted, with a fist on the table. "This is what you feed your people to get them to follow you?"

Anduin half-rose out of his seat, but so did about half the room. He settled back down.

Tyrande stood again, and with one hand over her heart, said clearly, "It is true. I attest as High Priestess, it is true."

The Dwarf, casting a baleful glance around, sat back down with a thunk. The room settled with him. 

"Please," Taria said, smiling as if nothing had happened and raising her golden goblet of wine, "To our people. To our alliances. To our victory. And to the Guardian and your king."

#

Had Khadgar been able, he might not have resisted the urge to cast a silence on the Dwarf that spoke out. Even if he'd had doubts, this was not the place to voice them–but honestly, he shouldn't have expected any less of this particular group of Dark Irons. 

As it was, he was too busy being immensely uncomfortable with the heroic-sounding recounting of their deeds at the battle. It wasn't like he'd been to many of these things–he hadn't been expecting _that_ , and suddenly he knew he'd been right to come along with Anduin, to be here for him. He knew Anduin didn't want his resurrection glorified like that, but at the same time, he knew why Taria did it–to give people faith in their leaders. To give them hope that the tides of this war were finally turning.

Under the table, he reached over and took Anduin's hand with the one he wasn't using to toast, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles in a comforting gesture. He shot Anduin a sidelong smile, not needing to say a word to get across his message–that the most uncomfortable part was over. Now they just had the chatter of the feast to deal with.

And, of course, the stares of both wonder–and some fear–that were being cast their way now. At Khadgar because he'd been blessed by a Goddess, and not even one of his own worship, and at Anduin for having crossed to the other side of the veil and back again. He had the feeling they would be dealing with those kind of looks and uncomfortable questions for a long time now.

With the speeches and toast over, the room fell into excited chatter over the meal–the soldiers were telling stories of the battle, recounting the heroics of those who were killed to win the battle, and the emissaries and delegates listening with mostly fascination–or, in the Dark Irons' case, with poorly masked disgust and disbelief.

Khadgar couldn't help but notice the absence of any delegates from the Kirin Tor. Normally this was the kind of thing they would put in an appearance for–but it seemed they were still at odds with the idea of a renegade Guardian who was young, but not bowing to their will and requests.

One of the Dark Irons was fixing Anduin and Taria with a suspicious glare. "If your Guardian and King are so powerful, then you should have no trouble sparing a moment to take care of the problems you've caused in the north," he said, eyes flickering to his comrades across the table–and to one standing by the door, out of sight of Anduin and Taria. Khadgar noticed immediately when that one nodded and moved into the hallway alone as the first continued talking. "Surely a wizard of such caliber could take out their armies with a few well-placed bolts of lightning."

It wasn't confidence in his voice; it was a taunt. A blatant message that he didn't believe what Taria and Tyrande said about the battle. But Khadgar was more worried about the suspicious activity, and he let go of Anduin's hand to get his attention. 

 _Be right back_ , he mouthed clearly, and then he nodded to Dion, assuring Anduin that the guard would be going with him. He didn't want that Dwarf snooping around in private areas while the party went on. He stood up and gestured for Dion to follow, and then moved to follow the lone Dwarf down the hallway.

#

Anduin glanced up and got the bare minimum of a warning from Khadgar before the mage was up and hustling toward the exit, Dion in tow.

He huffed in frustration. He couldn't follow or it would definitely seem suspicious. Not only to the Dwarves, but also to the rest of his subjects in the room. 

"What is it?" Taria murmured to him.

Anduin shook his head at her.

The Dwarves were sharing smug looks with each other that were deeply concerning, but Anduin had no idea what to do about it without causing an embarrassing scene for no provable cause.

He tapped his knife on the tablecloth, thinking. Then he grinned.

"Lothar," the ever-observant Taria warned.

Anduin winked at her. Taria's expression became nervous.

He dropped his knife on the floor, pictured Baldum's cup, and whispered the spell to fill it with water. 

After all, if he missed, well...so much the better. 

Anduin sat up as the Dwarf let out an uproarious shout. He was standing, shaking out his clothes. He looked up toward the head table, no doubt to find the mage to blame it on. He spun in a circle, but had to sit down when he found Khadgar nowhere in sight. 

Anduin called out clearly to a servant, "Please bring a napkin and a fresh cup to our guest."

Several tables of people turned to see what their regent was referring to.

Purple-faced, Baldum settled down.

Taria gripped his knee, but it was worth it. 

"Whatever you did," she muttered. "Do not do it again."

Anduin grinned. It was the little things.

#

Khadgar had just gotten into the hallway when he saw the Dwarf step through the doorway at the end of it. Dion saw it too, and his brow furrowed with a frown.

"Now where is he off to...?" he muttered, and Khadgar opened his mouth to answer, remembered he couldn't, and shrugged instead. He didn't fail to notice Dion's hand on the hilt of his sword as they quietly followed the path the Dwarf had taken. 

Khadgar realized their mistake too late. The second he opened the door at the end of the hall, something struck him in the stomach hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. He dropped down, giving Dion the opportunity to draw his sword and start to swing at the attacker–until his arm was grabbed from behind by another. He struggled against the grip, and Khadgar desperately tried to force a spell through, any attack, his eyes and hands lighting up–but without the incantation, it was like trying to slog through a tar pit. The power was blocked, cut off, and before he even got his breath back, another Dwarf grabbed him around the neck and forced a gag into his mouth, tying it tightly.

He grabbed onto the arm around his neck, trying to get free, but it was an iron grip, cutting off most of his air–and the gag wasn't helping matters there.

Dion pulled free of the grip and sliced at one of the Dwarves with his sword, managing to cut the attacker's arm open, leaving a splash of blood on the floor–but as quick as he'd gotten the upper hand, two more were on him, one swinging a hammer that clipped his hand and knocked the blade to the floor.

Then, another dove in with a dagger, going for the vulnerable juncture between the chest plate and the leg plates on his armor. The dagger sank in deep, and Khadgar's eyes widened and his struggles doubled as the blade was pulled free and Dion dropped, clutching his hands to the gushing wound.

 _No, no, Dion!_  he thought, eyes and hands both glowing in his desperation, and he finally got ahold of one of his attacker's fingers and pulled hard, probably breaking it. The Dwarf pulled away with a grunt–and then Khadgar looked up in time to see a hammer just before it connected with his temple.

Pain exploded through his head, and he went down hard, the glow quickly fading. He couldn't even think about fighting back as they strapped a blindfold over his eyes and yanked his arms behind his back–and then he felt the familiar cold, uncomfortable metal of binding cuffs snapping into place.

Not that they were needed, but the Dwarves obviously weren't taking any chances.

Khadgar heard Dion shift and moan in agony, but the blindfold left him helpless as they pulled him to his feet; he stumbled and nearly fell, his head swimming, warm blood dripping down the side of his face. It felt like a lot–and the pain was nearly overwhelming–but head wounds always bled more, right? That was normal. He was more worried about Dion, even as they shoved him forward, moving him as quickly as they could.

" _Zu dum scalf, ganrokh_ ," one of them said lowly, and Khadgar recognized the words– _to the birds, quickly_. He imagined he wouldn't be conscious for much longer if they planned on getting him out of here on the Dark Iron gryphons–they wouldn't want a struggling hostage on one of those mounts. He supposed he'd rather be unconscious right now, given the amount of pain he was in, how ill he felt, and how hard he was shaking at the thought of being left entirely helpless with these Dwarves–and at the thought of Dion possibly dying in the hall behind them.

Dion, meanwhile, struggled to his feet, though he felt as if the dagger were still buried in him, his legs barely held him up, and blood was practically pouring down the front of him. He forced himself to keep as much pressure on the wound as possible, leaning against the wall as he stumbled back toward the main hall; he couldn't go after the Dwarves like this. He needed help.

Hell, he might not make it to the help. That's what the Dwarves had been counting on when they left him there to die.

But the thought of the Guardian at their mercy pushed him on, and he finally got to the door, shoving it open and making it only a few steps further before he fell to his knees, one hand braced on the floor, the other still trying to stop the flow of blood. "R–Regent–!" he said, the words choked with pain and weakness, blood dripping rapidly on the floor under him. It was all he could do to force words out. "Dark Irons...they h-have Khadgar!"

#

Anduin was smirking at the Dark Iron representatives and holding a pleasant if meaningless conversation with Thelae when suddenly a voice wracked with pain shuddered through the room. He was on his feet before he located Dion by the doorway. The guard was on the floor, and it only took a moment more to notice the darkening pool of blood.

"Guards!" He roared. "Take them!" He pointed to the Dark Irons. 

The Dwarves were too slow by a heartbeat to grab their weapons. They were in a room of Stormwind's armies, surrounded by Stormwind's allies–he wondered what they could possibly have been thinking, trying anything agains them at that time.

He rushed to Dion. Tyrande was already there, whispering words of healing over the fallen soldier.

"Where?" He clipped out. 

"Out of the castle, I think," Dion said. "They took him from the room. Bound him. Something I've never seen, large iron shackles...bound him, gagged him. Please hurry."

As if Anduin needed to be told. The hall was in an uproar now, and Taria was making sure the Dark Irons weren't murdered where they stood, much to Anduin's disappointment. He didn't waste another breath waiting before clapping a hand to Dion's shoulder and bolting from the hall. 

The castle was swarmed with guards already searching for the Guardian and the assailants. Dion had left a trail of blood on the floor, easy enough to follow to the source. 

What was harder was tracking what happened after that. There was blood everywhere in the room he ended up at, and finally he was able to find the barest trace of a trail on the floor leading through several back rooms. The Dwarves were smart–they couldn't go through the castle with a bound hostage without being seen by someone–so they had mapped out an escape route to a barely–used landing in the back of the castle.

They were just dragging a limp Khadgar to a pair of gryphons when Anduin burst onto the landing. "Halt or you risk war!" He shouted. 

The Dark Irons gave him no acknowledgement, throwing Khadgar over a saddle.

Anduin threw himself at the Dwarf before he could follow. His companion was already in the air, circling like a vulture. He came down again, his gryphon skidding across the ground. 

Seeing that he obviously meant to switch and take off with Khadgar, Anduin kicked the Dwarf he was tangled with away from him and stretched out a hand toward his companion.

 _Just like a glass,_  he thought, and pictured the Dark Iron's lungs. He spoke the spell just as the Dwarf climbed onto the gryphon. He fell off, clutching at his throat and choking up water. It wasn't long before he was still and dead. 

Anduin was knocked aside as the other Dwarf attacked him. He held the Dwarf away from him with a firm grip in his braided hair even as he slashed at him with a blade. Anduin let go to parry and danced back. 

The Dwarf made a run for the Gryphon. With a screech, he threw himself on him and brought his blade down into his back.

#

Khadgar had never been so happy to hear Anduin's voice in all his life, or at least it felt that way at the moment. He tried to ignore the pain in his head and twist out of the grip on him, but he was too weak, and the next thing he knew he was being thrown over a saddle and felt the familiar movement of a restless gryphon under him. He struggled as the Dwarf climbed on, waiting for the blow that would knock him unconscious–but it never came.

Instead, he heard that familiar incantation that he'd taught Anduin that day, and then a gurgling sound from the Dwarf on the gryphon–and then the Dwarf fell off.

 _Did he just–_ he started to think, but he could be amazed at that later. When he wasn't in immediate danger of being kidnapped.

 _Get up. Get up!_ he thought desperately, but with his hands bound behind him and his mind barely keeping him conscious after the blow and all the movement, it was easier said than done. He heard the sound of a blade piercing through leather and flesh, and he managed to shove himself backwards off the bird, landing on his side and quickly fighting to sit up. He could feel the blood matting down the hair on the right side of his head, soaking through the blindfold, and he didn't know what was going on around him, which was a little more than terrifying.

He heard a body hit the ground next to him and he flinched, using his feet to shove himself backward, away from the attacker and the gryphon. For a moment, he was terrified it had been Anduin who fell, and as his back hit the stone wall, he was breathing harshly in panic and pain. He needed to cast, needed to defend himself, needed to find out if Anduin was okay, but he _couldn't_. The tight bindings burned on his wrists like fire as the arcane tried to escape him with no outlet and no incantation.

He heard footsteps coming toward him, and he pressed back against the wall in a panic, trembling all over, too dizzy to even reach out for his magic, and all he could think was _please, please be Anduin._

#

Anduin hopped off the immobile body of the Dark Iron and gave it one last vindictive kick before looking up to find Khadgar. He had a moment of panic when he realized he was no longer on the gryphon, but it was only a second before he located him, flinching and terrified, pressing against the side of the castle.

He ran to him, shaking in anger and heartache from seeing the mage so afraid and so harmed, and from the matted blood that covered his scalp and one half of his face. 

Anduin tore off Khadgar's blindfold and cupped his face briefly, trying to get him to focus on his own eyes. "I have you," Anduin said, his voice thick and trembling. "I have you."

He removed the gag next, quickly and gently, and said, "Wait a moment. Wait. They must have the key." He ran back–the first body had nothing on it but a sack of Dwarven gold, but he found what he was looking for in the pocket of the Dwarf he'd drowned. He sprinted back to Khadgar and with gentle hands unlocked the arcane restraints. They burned him too when his fingers made contact, and he flinched–if it felt like that for him, even with borrowed magic, it must be torture for the Guardian himself.

As soon as Khadgar was released from all his bindings, Anduin clutched Khadgar to his chest. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he murmured over and over again like a mantra. He pressed kisses into Khadgar's hair, and then finally his mouth. "What happened? I should have followed you, politics be damned."

#

Khadgar's body sagged with relief when the blindfold came off and it was Anduin standing over him. He took in the scene wide-eyed–the Dwarf on the ground with a puddle of water around his head, the other one with a sword driven through his back, and the Dark Iron gryphon, shifting restlessly and pacing along the ledge, spooked by the battle but too well trained to leave its masters, dead or alive. Luckily for them, not trained to attack though.

He didn't want Anduin to go, not even a few feet away, but he waited patiently as he searched the bodies. He tried to force himself to stop shaking; it didn't work.

He immediately grabbed onto Anduin tightly as soon as the bindings fell free, eyes stinging with tears despite his efforts to hold them back. His head was still spinning, and it felt like his skull had been cracked open, judging by the pain–but he just wanted Anduin to stay. His mind was racing with all the what-ifs, and he didn't even try to answer Anduin's questions. He couldn't have, anyway.

He suddenly pulled away, his eyes going wide. _Dion?_ he mouthed, fearing the worst–that the man might have died trying to protect him.

He suddenly swayed a little, his vision blurring for just a few moments as he pressed his hand to his head with a wince. He really didn't feel well–a hammer to the head would do that to you, after all.

#

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I forgot you couldn't talk," Anduin swore. "But how could I, when this would never have happened otherwise. Tyrande was healing Dion when I left them. The Dark Irons have been apprehended. The whole castle is on alert."

Anduin got his arm under Khadgar's shoulders. "I'll pick you up and carry you if you'll let me," he suggested, a slight, worried smile on his lips belying the teasing words. 

#

Khadgar let out a breath of relief when he heard Dion was being healed, especially since it was by Tyrande; they couldn't ask for a better healer to help him. 

And the Dark Irons being apprehended made him feel even better about a horrible situation. It didn't escape him that this whole 'negotiations' thing had probably been a ruse from the start–separate the Guardian, take a hostage, and have Stormwind's army unwillingly under your command.

But he didn't want to be carried–he got hit on the head, but his legs were fine. He was just a little dizzy; he could walk, for sure. He shook his head and braced one hand against the castle wall, stubbornly trying to stand up–and just as he got his feet under him, his vision went white, and he slumped forward against Anduin, passing out cold.

#

Well, that answered Anduin's question for him. 

He got his arms under Khadgar's shoulders and knees and lifted, making his way as quickly as he could back through the castle. The first guards he saw he had go to get a healer or Tyrande, as well as water and antiseptic cloths He brought Khadgar to his quarters, laying the mage on the bed.

The supplies arrived before the healers, and so he was wiping Khadgar's face off carefully with a soft, clean rag when Tyrande arrived. It settled some of the worry in his heart; he trusted Stormwind's healers, but the High Priestess' reputation exceeded even their best priests. 

He moved away enough to let her work, leaning on the footboard, his knuckles turned white by his anxious grip on the wood.

#

Tyrande gave Anduin a kind smile as she sat down in the chair by the bed, immediately beginning to work. She held her hand over the wound, murmuring a quiet prayer, a soft white light shining beneath her fingers.

"He will likely be concussed. I cannot heal that part of it," she explained, smoothing down the Guardian's hair in a very maternal gesture before she stood up to face Anduin. "But he will be fine, with the usual rest and care. Dion, as well, though he will need more time to recover. He lost a lot of blood before he reached us."

Her expression turned more solemn, then. "I must return to Darnassus soon, but I will allow Thelae to remain here for as long as necessary to act as a witness for any trial that may occur because of the Dark Irons' actions. She witnessed the same as me, and so I will give her full authority to speak on my behalf," she added, and then she smiled, just a little. "I think she would prefer to stay here until your guard recovers from his injuries anyway, so this will serve two purposes."

#

Anduin bowed to Tyrande in gratefulness and respect. He rose with a grin at her comment about Thelae, however. It amused him just how much of the castle had taken an interest in dear Mustard's burgeoning love life. 

"I am relieved to hear that. Guard Dion has served Stormwind with nothing but diligence and honor." He transferred his gaze to the sleeping form of Khadgar, a crease between his eyes. "Thank you for what you've done for Stormwind, and for Khadgar."

Tyrande nodded graciously at him, a smile on her lips. She took his hands in her own. 

"I am pleased to have found such strong allies, and such a strong friend in Stormwind's regent and Queen," she said. 

With one last warm look toward Khadgar, she left. 

Anduin sat down on the edge of the bed, and took one of Khadgar's warm, limp hands in his own, pressing it to his lips. Now that the direct threat was over, the true horror of what had almost happened was setting in. His breathing was quick and his chest tight despite Khadgar being on the mend. 

He had almost lost his heart. 

It would have been for the last time. He would not have survived Khadgar's loss; he knew that as sure as anything in his life. 

#

Khadgar woke slowly, to a pounding pain in his head. He almost wanted to slip right back into sleep, except for two things; one, he was beginning to remember what had happened, and two, he could feel Anduin's familiar grip on his hand.

The Dark Irons. The fight on the balcony. Right.

He opened his eyes slowly, flinching at the light before turning his head toward Anduin. He opened his mouth to speak, and furrowed his brow in frustration when he remembered why that wasn't going to work.

#

Anduin watched as Khadgar's eyes flickered open with relief. "Thank the Light," he breathed. 

His hand was trembling as he held Khadgar's.

The mage tried to say something, and unwillingly he let go of his fingers to get pen and paper from the desk. 

"Don't overdo it," he cautioned. "You have a concussion."

He sat back down gently, brushing Khadgar's wet hair back from his temples. 

#

A concussion. Well, that would make sense, considering he distinctly remembered getting hit in the head with a Dwarven hammer when they got sick of him struggling.

But a blow to the head was a lot better than a blade to the gut.

He took the quill and paper from Anduin, and though it was hard to write like this, he managed it–but his writing was even messier than usual. Luckily he only had to write one word for his first question. _Dion?_ he scrawled out worriedly.

Last he heard, Tyrande had been healing him–but even healers couldn't help you if you bled too much before you got to them.

#

Anduin laughed. Of course that would be Khadgar's first concern. "He's fine. Tyrande was able to heal him in time. And he was the reason you're not dead, spell–chucker. Assigning that guard to you was the best decision I've made in a long while."

Anduin continued his soothing strokes over Khadgar's scalp.

"I thought I was going to lose you," he admitted huskily. 

#

Khadgar sighed with relief, relaxing a bit into the pillow. If Dion had gotten himself killed protecting him, Khadgar would never have been able to shake the guilt. He already felt bad enough that he hadn't been able to cast a single spell in their defense, silenced or not.

He leaned his head into the touch; it felt good, compared to the pounding inside his skull. He soon fumbled for the paper and quill again though, this time fighting to sit up a little so he could actually write more than one word.

 _Nice water spell_ , he wrote in slightly jagged letters, giving Anduin a smile. _Told you you're a natural._

To say the least. Khadgar wouldn't have thought of that.

#

Anduin snorted and helped Khadgar sit upright. It wasn't good to sleep with a concussion; that much he knew from experience.

"I could get used to this," he admitted. He leaned over and pressed a kiss onto Khadgar's forehead, seeking out as much contact as he could. 

He shifted until he was all the way on the bed, seated next to Khadgar with their thighs touching. "If you hadn't transferred your powers to me, maybe this never would have happened," he said. "Or maybe it saved you. I wouldn't have been able to stop that Dwarf in time with just my sword. Light, I wish you could talk right now," he said, a bit of a whine in his tone. He looked to Khadgar's eyes. "I miss your voice."

#

Khadgar actually rolled his eyes and grin at that. He obviously would have been laughing, if he could have.

 _I'll remind you of that next time you tell me to stop talking when I'm rambling about spells_ , he wrote down, though it wasn't lost on him that Anduin may be right. The Dwarves knew to keep Khadgar from casting right from the start–the first thing they did was knock the air out of him so he couldn't speak, followed up immediately with a gag. He may have ended up in the same situation even if he could cast.

He flinched again as a stab of pain went through his head, and he grabbed onto Anduin's hand with his free one, holding tight until the worst of the pain passed. He really wanted to find that hammer and melt it down to use as scrap.

But for now, he tugged Anduin into a soft, reassuring kiss.

#

"Okay, enough writing," Anduin said. He placed the utensil and parchment aside, but within reach so as not to silence Khadgar completely. He tugged Khadgar into him. 

There came a knock on the door; Taria swept in a moment later, rushing over to the bed. She looked Khadgar over with a mother's eyes, then changed her worried gaze to Anduin. "You're both all right?" She asked.

"Sit, please," Anduin patted the bare spot on the bed next to them. "Yes. We're all right," he said as she settled beside them and put her hand gently on Anduin's ankle. "Khadgar has a concussion but Tyrande healed him. But there's more."

"About why he can't speak," Taria guessed.

"He's had trouble with the control over the arcane since Elune filled him. He had a solution–and it involved transferring some of his powers to me. I'm part mage." His face held laughter, knowing how Taria knew him and his former apprehension when it came to magic. 

Sure enough, both of Taria's eyebrows rose. "The water tonight. That _was_ you."

Anduin grinned.

Taria shook her head, her face reproving but filled with amusement nonetheless. Her expression darkened a moment later. "Those deceptive, vile, Light-forsaken people," she said. "How could they do this to you?" She turned worried eyes to Khadgar.

"When he transferred his powers to me he lost his voice," Anduin explained. "It's supposedly temporary, until I have enough control to help him. Hopefully in a few days' time."

"We'll have to postpone our trial and interrogation of the Dark Irons until then," Taria decided.

#

Khadgar very nearly pouted when Anduin took away the parchment and quill; it was frustrating to not be able to speak when the situation called for it. 

Such as now, when Taria mentioned waiting to do the trial. He looked up at the two of them, unusually wide eyed–he was used to trials in Dalaran, which were incredibly unpleasant for everyone involved–and usually rigged. A trial was something you never wanted to be part of when the Kirin Tor were involved.

Khadgar had been in one trial while he was there–another classmate had lost control of a spell and severely injured someone, and Khadgar happened to be there when it happened. Despite the fact that it was obviously an accident, he spent hours being interrogated, being pressured with exhaustion to slip up and change his story. 

Plus, he could already imagine how humiliating it would be to have to relive the whole ordeal.

#

He shifted uncomfortably again the headboard, taking in a sharp breath at a sudden stab of pain before looking up at Anduin and Taria again. _Trial?_ he mouthed, hoping they would get the idea–yes, he knew there had to be a trial, but he was wondering what _kind_ of trial. He'd never seen any but the Kirin Tor's.

#

"Yes, bookworm," Anduin said with a roll of his eyes, misreading Khadgar. "As much as I would love to just execute all the Dark Irons in Stormwind, that isn't what we do here."

Taria smacked his leg lightly, but sighed. "We'll want your testimony, so it's important that you be able to speak," Taria said. "We want no more distrust thrown on you, and if you have a mysterious ailment where you cannot talk during proceedings such as this it could have very negative consequences."

She stood, and looked between them. "I'll tell your second-in-command, Anduin, to take care of things at the barracks for you for another day. Khadgar, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but Tyrande said no reading while you recover, for at least a couple days. It could harm your mind. If you want a pass on that, please send for a healer."

She turned a smile to Anduin. "Thelae is looking after Khadgar's guard, Anduin. Imagine that."

Anduin grinned back at her, and she left them alone again. 

"Perhaps I could read to you," Anduin suggested. "Just tell me what you'd like brought."

#

Khadgar's face when Taria said 'no reading' was akin to his expression had she said 'I ordered all the puppies in Stormwind executed'. He wanted so badly to argue, because he was pretty sure she had to be kidding, but she was gone in moments.

He clenched his jaw stubbornly; reading wouldn't hurt him. It was just a concussion. Honestly.

When she was gone, though, Khadgar grabbed at the quill and parchment, the order of 'enough writing' be damned. _What are trials like here?_ he wrote, his expression worried as he pushed the paper at Anduin. Judging by his reaction before, Khadger thought Anduin might think it was a silly question, but he had to know.

After all, so many other things were done differently that he never would have considered before.

#

Anduin blinked at him, confused. "You're not going to be the one facing a sentence, Khadgar," he said. 

The mage looked truly worried, though. He hugged him into his side. 

"They're fair," he said finally. "As much as I would like to kill the Dark Irons outright, as I did your kidnappers, I have no such justification for doing so. They were actively harming and kidnapping the Guardian of Azeroth after grievously wounding a Stormwind guard. As regent that was my prerogative. The representatives, unfortunately, were in attendance at the celebration. We need to sort out their motives, and draw out a confession. Barring that, your word will be enough for us to keep them as prisoners until the Dark Irons send additional emissaries that we can question."

He frowned. "You can't be concerned for them?"

#

Khadgar paused for a moment, looking down and thinking. He very well couldn't write down his explanation–that would take forever. But there was one place it was already written down.

He took the paper and quickly wrote out: _Library, third shelf down in Dalaran History section, green book titled 'Governing the Floating City'. Chapter 16._

That would explain it better than he could. The first part of that chapter covered how trials were conducted when magical entities were involved–the process was extensive, involving intensive interrogation of all involved parties no matter the part they played, along with suppression of powers for the mages involved to eliminate the possibility of using spells to hide deceit or influence officials. And when it was political, it was even more unpleasant–usually, solitary confinement for all who needed to testify, to keep anyone from being swayed to change their testimony, either through threats or magic.

He handed over the paper; that would be enough to tell Anduin why Khadgar felt like he needed to ask. Many, many cities had special laws and policies when it came to trials involving mages.

#

"All right," Anduin said with a perplexed frown. 

He went to the door and sent a guard after the book. She came back quickly enough with it and he settled back down beside Khadgar, opening it up to the pages he'd specified. 

Knowing Khadgar would just read over his shoulder, he began to read the chapter aloud to him.

It wasn't long before he was speaking the words with growing horror. 

He broke off halfway through to look down at Khadgar. "I've said it before," he said tightly. "But it's no wonder you ran from them. Whatever the reasons. Medivh never spoke of this."

#

Khadgar smiled a little sadly, quickly jotting down, _Medivh was raised by a Guardian, outside the Kirin Tor. He knew of it, but never had to be involved._

He didn't blame Medivh for not getting involved, either. The Kirin Tor had been around for so long, they were incredibly stuck in their ways–which was one of the other reasons that Khadgar had left. He couldn't abide by any leaders who saw no reason to question their own convictions, no reason to change to adapt to new threats.

Khadgar settled back down and leaned his head against Anduin's shoulder, resisting the urge to just close his eyes and sleep for a while longer. He was tired, but he didn't want to sleep.

#

"Don't fall asleep on me," Anduin said, jostling Khadgar lightly. "Not yet. One of the worst things you can do with a concussion."

He thought for a moment, then realized they did have something they could do that didn't involve anything bad for Khadgar.

"Why don't you teach me some spells, o spell-chucker?" He smiled. "We have some time on our hands."

#

Khadgar lifted his head with a soft sigh; he was tired, but obviously his own mind and Anduin weren't going to let him sleep yet. 

He thought for a moment, then decided on one of the very few spells he could cast a scaled–down version of without speaking the incantation; that would make it easier. He closed the book on Anduin's lap, dragging it over and writing on the parchment: _An_ ' _aman takkar_. This was a less intense version of the same spell he used to pin Garona, the same spell Medivh used to hold him against the bookshelves.

He held out his hand, set the book on it, and focused; his eyes and hand glowed, and moments later, the book rose up in the air, being supported by arcane magic that almost seemed to be boiling beneath it. It was a deceptive spell–it looked easy, but it wasn't as easy as it seemed. It was much like setting an object on top of a spout of water in a fountain and trying to keep it there; unless the flow was strong enough and steady enough, the object wouldn't stay put for any length of time.

He let it fall back to his hand, then held the book out to Anduin, raising an eyebrow.

#

Anduin snorted. "Why do you keep looking at me like you expect me to fail," he laughed, though. "This was your idea. "

He couldn't help but admit that he felt a thrill at the thought of using magic again, though. It could get very addictive.

Steeling himself, he said the words. Instead of gently raising in the air, though, the book was flung halfway across the room. Anduin winced. 

"Shut up," he advised Khadgar mildly.

Not bothering to retrieve the book, he tried again. It lifted perhaps an inch off the floor before falling.

Determined to get it right, Anduin kept practicing. 

#

Khadgar grabbed onto Anduin's hand, feeling the rush of magic through both of them at the contact. He shook his head, then grabbed the parchment again, this time making a quick sketch, ink staining his hands from all the writing–but that was a normal look for him, really.

He'd always been good at drawing, so it took no time at all. He drew the analogy he'd always thought of for this; he drew the water fountain in Dalaran, with the spouts of water shooting up from beneath the surface. He held up his hand next to the parchment and cast the spell again, without the book this time.

 _See? It's like water. You have to focus_ , he thought, giving Anduin an encouraging smile.

#

Anduin half expected Khadgar to laugh at him, and was surprised instead by his careful tutoring. 

"Okay," he said. "Like water." 

He took a moment to smile at Khadgar's detailed drawing, though. The mage was a good artist.

He drew in a breath, and tried again. 

And still failed. 

He glowed darkly at the book, but patted Khadgar's leg. "No, no. I'll get this," he muttered. 

He said the words again, and this time, he was able to force the book into the air. Once that part was done, the balancing he actually found easy–he'd always been skilled with anything physical, and that's what it felt like–another limb.

He grinned in triumph at Khadgar, even though the break in concentration caused the book to fall.

#

Khadgar grinned in return, still amazed that Anduin was learning so quickly. The man was amazing at pretty much everything, it seemed. Then, he got a mischievous look on his face, and drew another quick sketch on the parchment.

It was the same 'fountain' analogy, except he drew in a pyramid stack of six crystal goblets on top of the 'water'. He labeled it 'Lesson two in Dalaran, hold for two hours. Start over if you break one.'

Somehow, he had the feeling that Anduin would pass on that Kirin Tor style practice, but it would be worth it just to see the look on his face when presented with a Dalaran 'lesson plan' like the one Khadgar had learned on.

#

True to Khadgar's expectations, Anduin's face pulled comically at his graphical depictions of his former training. "This isn't humane," he growled. "You have to know that, right?" 

He pushed his troops hard, but they also were rewarded for it. It only seemed like Kirin Tor initiates were punished.

His face a thundercloud, he pulled Khadgar in to him.

"I'll pass," he added. "I don't think Taria would appreciate me breaking that many dishes."

He did say the spell again, though, this time after kicking off his boots. He transported them to their place at the foot of his bed, beaming like a schoolboy despite himself.

#

Khadgar gave Anduin a look that was half confused, and half amused, like he either didn't know what Anduin was getting at, or thought he was joking. As Anduin toyed around with the spell, he tugged the parchment over.

 _Not humane? This was a normal first year lesson,_ he wrote. He knew they were high expectations, sure, and he hadn't enjoyed spending twelve hours in that room trying to go two hours without losing focus–but practice was absolutely paramount. You didn't get the right focus without practicing it endlessly.

He began to think that he probably shouldn't show Anduin any of his teenage years’ lesson plans, if he thought that two hours of one spell was awful.

He paused, brow furrowed in thought, and then added on the parchment:  _What are schools like here, then?_

#

"It's not that we don't push our people to learn," Anduin said with an eyeroll. "But it's usually followed by praise and rewards, not punishments, and certainly not the trials described in that book."

He sighed. "I push my troops hard. I pushed Callan hard. Sometimes too hard," he added, more quietly. "I agree with the mindset that it's needed for survival, that type of perfection and focus. But the rest–"

He sent Khadgar a twisted smile. "It explains why you put up with me so easily, when I was doing my best to scare you away. You're stubborn." He ruffled Khadgar's hair, gently.

#

Khadgar could count on one hand the number of times he got outright praise from his tutors; he could remember how elated he'd been, knowing he'd performed so well that they would actually tell him 'good job', or something of the sort. Maybe that was why all he could seem to do now was focus on his failures, on his defeats.

He smiled and batted Anduin's hand away, though he did nod and shrug, after a moment. He was definitely stubborn, he knew that much; he wouldn't have made it this far if he hadn't been. 

He leaned in and kissed Anduin; he wanted to tell him not to think poorly of his time with Callan, that Callan loved him, but it wasn't the time or place. So instead, he just tried to reassure him that he was loved and wanted, here and now, and always would be.

#

Anduin smiled against Khadgar's lips after kissing him back. 

"So," he said, unable to keep the mischief from his voice. "You've taught me how to organize my room and conjure water. How about turning people into sheep? Didn't you say that was a spell you practiced when you were young? That can't be that hard, then."

#

Khadgar gave Anduin an incredulous look, snatching a new piece of parchment to use.

 _We practiced on animals first,_ he wrote. _Messing it up on a human can have unfortunate side effects._

He wondered, briefly, if the poor janitor at Dalaran was still trying to eat hay for half his meals, courtesy of a classmate who thought she didn't need more practice before trying the human form of the spell.

#

Anduin laughed. "There are thousands of rats in this city," he pointed out. "If you teach me, I don't have to do it right now."

He had a brief daydream of turning the Dark Irons into sheep, since he couldn't outright murder them.

He wasn't sure he had any hope of winning that argument with Khadgar, though; in a few days he wouldn't even have magic, so wasting the time he had practicing one useless spell didn't seem feasible. 

He stroked Khadgar's arm absentmindedly, and let his head fall sideways onto the top of Khadgar's. They had enough of a height difference that he could rest comfortably on the other man. He shut his eyes briefly. Light, but they'd had a long day.

#

Khadgar leaned into Anduin, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He was going to miss this, being able to teach Anduin about the arcane, see him learning things so novel to him that were so normal to Khadgar himself. He hated how sometimes he forgot the reason he'd loved magic so much in the first place.

The Kirin Tor had almost taken that away from him.

He let his eyes fall closed, concentrating each slow breath Anduin took, just reveling in the fact that somehow, _somehow_ , they were still both alive. Still _here_.

He couldn't help but doze off, after the day he'd had. His breathing evened out as he leaned more heavily against Anduin, falling asleep in moments.

#

Anduin woke sometime in the middle of the night with his back aching from sitting up while sleeping against a wooden headboard, still in his bloodied finery from the feast. Khadgar was still fast asleep on his numb arm. He bit back a groan and extricated himself as carefully as he could, using the chamber pot and then finding his sleep clothes in his wardrobe. He peeled off his soiled shirt and pants, reveling in not feeling the sticky, crusty mess against his chest any longer. 

He almost put on the clean clothes, when he realized it would be even better to be truly clean before he did so. He could wake a servant, but he'd never abused his position, not really, and he didn't feel like starting now. It was the dead of the night. 

Then he realized–it might be a cool bath, but he'd bathed in streams before, those in the northern Dwarf lands included. Perhaps he could use Khadgar's spell to fill the tub.

He breathed out the words Khadgar had taught him, but in his tiredness he was picturing more than just the outline of the tub–his mind was also on the gushing streams of the mountains. 

When he focused again, he let out an undignified yelp–the tub was filling, but it wasn't stopping.

"Khadgar!" He cried, panicked, running over to shake the mage awake even as the water began sloshing over onto the floor. "Help me!"

Nevermind that he was completely stark naked.

#

Normally, Khadgar would have no objections to being woken up in the middle of the night by a very much naked Anduin. Of course, normally he would be waking him up not in a panic, and for much more interesting purposes than a spell gone haywire.

It looked like Anduin had figured out what happened when you stopped focusing mid-spell. Khadgar had done it so many times over the years that he was used to reining it in.

And actually, as he thought about it, it was a perfect learning opportunity–because if Anduin lost focus in the middle of the spell to make the barriers, the last thing Khadgar wanted him to do was panic. That could end in tragedy, for both of them.

He held up a hand in a motion for Anduin to calm down, and he hurriedly grabbed the parchment and rapidly wrote, _Focus. Imagine it evaporating. Push back against the flow of energy you started._

He shoved that in Anduin's hands, and gave him an encouraging nod. He knew he could do it; the test would be how quickly he could calm and center himself again.

#

Anduin looked back and forth between the tub and Khadgar several times before steeling himself. Of course he do that; it was all he wanted in that moment, for the damned water to go away. He didn't have that strong of a need. Blood was something he was used to having on the outside of himself; it could wait. 

He concentrated, imagining the water fizzing away into nothing.

And to his vast surprise, unlike the last few times he'd tried a spell for the first time, it actually worked. 

He couldn't conceal his relief. He grabbed the spare blankets from his trunk and threw them on the floor to soak up the water. He flopped backward onto the bed and threw an arm over his face. "It seemed like a good idea," he groaned.

At least it hadn't flooded the whole room.

#

Khadgar sighed in relief when Anduin managed to recover so quickly–that boded well if something went horribly wrong with the barrier spell. He grinned proudly at Anduin, and then stretched out on the bed next to him, cuddling up to his side and tucking his head against the man's shoulder. His head still ached, but at least it wasn't the vicious, blinding pain it was earlier.

In lieu of being able to say 'I'm proud of you', he instead lifted his head and gave him a long, firm kiss. Spells always went wrong when you'd just started to learn them; especially if you were entirely new to magic.

It could have been a whole lot worse. He could have made the tub explode.

#

Anduin laughed. "I got up to get changed, you know," he pointed out, but Khadgar was warm against his side and made a very convincing argument to stay where he was. "I'm covered in Dark Iron blood. Who knows what diseases it carries."

He was cold, though. He kissed Khadgar's head in apology and shifted him off of him. "Bath, then I promise I'll go to sleep next to you," he said. 

He could do this. He was determined.

He concentrated on the bathtub again, and it filled with an appropriate amount of water. He sighed in relief. He went over and lowered himself into the tepid water, and found that it was room–temperature, not freezing like he'd feared. He let out a groan of pleasure at finally being able to scrub the grime away. 

It wasn't that he needed luxury, but he appreciated it whenever he could get it. He spent too many of his days sleeping on rocks in the rain. 

#

Khadgar would have protested, if he could; honestly, with the ache in his head and the stress from yesterday, he actually felt like he could sleep half the day away, if he were allowed.

He curled up against the chill of the room when Anduin got up, dozing in and out of sleep as he waited on him to return; he hardly looked the picture of a powerful Guardian right now, curled up and hugging a pillow, his hair a mess as he dozed. He could feel the arcane energy in the air, for once from both himself and Anduin, which was both strange and comforting; he was sure he would miss it, when this was all over.

#

Finally clean, Anduin returned to the bed to find Khadgar curled up and...fuzzy, his hair sticking every which way. He had to appreciate that uptight, perfectionistic, approval-seeking Khadgar was comfortable enough with him to let him see him with all of his guards down. It made his chest warm.

Grinning, Anduin nudged him over to make room and curled up around him on his side. He pressed a kiss to his neck before letting his own eyes fall closed.

#

Khadgar managed to sleep for a while longer before the sun beaming through the window ruined his plan of sleeping all day. He flinched at the light, his head still aching slightly, and he turned over to face Anduin, burying his face against the regent's chest. He knew he'd probably slept in longer than he ever had in his entire life, but he could be excused, he thought. Concussion and all.

He knew they would probably have to finish the spell today. He was looking forward to having his voice back and having his magic in a more stable condition–but at the same time, Anduin had seemed to be having such a great time learning new spells. And Khadgar was more than happy to teach him, to have someone else around who knew what it felt like to weave the arcane. Then again, Anduin was such a natural–maybe he had some level or arcane attunement, but he'd never had need to find it inside himself before. Maybe he could still learn, albeit slower, since he wouldn't have the power of a Guardian behind the magic. Or maybe having this temporary magic would bring life to any natural ability he had.

Either way, the spell had to be finished. Khadgar had to get started on studying the fel lines and discovering a way to find and close rifts when they opened up.

But for the moment, he could pretend that the weight of protecting the world wasn't on his shoulders. He just cuddled in close, one arm draping over Anduin's waist.

#

The small amount of movement made Anduin wake. Sun was streaming through the windows, and he had a moment of panic before remembering Taria had given them leave to rest. He looked down at Khadgar, who was obviously awake but pretending hard not to be.

He was hugging him, and Anduin felt a surge of happiness.

Khadgar was so different than his wife Calla. She hadn't been a protector of Stormwind, let alone of Azeroth, but he hadn't needed his partner to be extraordinary in that sort of way. She had been special in simpler, more important ways, however, and despite their differences those were the things that still shone through in Khadgar.

It was in their willingness to do what had to be done, and their acceptance of who Anduin was and his role; it was in their outlook–that no matter what they faced, they would try and often succeed at handling it. It was in moments like these, where they were able to relax into their contentment, forcing Anduin to do the same, even as his own mind lit up with worries.

And it was in other ways, too–Calla had always been patient with children, and he could see that potential in Khadgar, in the way the mage lit up as he taught him spells.

But it was in their differences, too, that Anduin found peace with Khadgar. The mage was more willing to put up with the more difficult aspects of Anduin's personality. They fought less, the two of them, than he and Calla ever had. And in some ways Khadgar was more sensible. Calla had been a dreamer, but Khadgar's tactical mind provided support to Anduin than he'd never known he'd needed.

But he'd never been regent when he'd been with Calla. Life had been simpler then. It was a new phase of his life now, and it struck him with awe that he'd found someone to share it with.

That wasn't to say, either, that he didn't appreciate Khadgar's immense strength. He loved him now, even muted and unable to do anything remotely to fulfill the requirements of Guardian. His companionship was enough. But Anduin loved to watch Khadgar when he was on the battlefield, glowing with power, or even just when he was facing down recalcitrant diplomats. He had considerable power over the arcane, and his strength of will was equally as intoxicating to observe.

And time and again, when he was at a disadvantage, the mage handled himself with grace.

Anduin had been stroking Khadgar's back as he thought; he leaned over to kiss his forehead.

"I love you," he said by way of a "good morning".

#

Khadgar had just been enjoying Anduin's attentions; he reluctantly opened his eyes, tilting his head up to look at Anduin. In lieu of replying, which would obviously be difficult, he instead kissed Anduin, a bit lazily.

He really could just lay here forever, he was pretty sure. 

He stretched and then cuddled back in close, his arm tightening around Anduin's waist. The longer they just stayed here like this, the longer he could avoid thinking about yesterday, or thinking about the risky spell they had to do today. But the peaceful moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Regent, Lady Taria is insisting that I make sure you're alright. And that you eat breakfast soon," a guard said from outside, and Khadgar pressed his face against Anduin's chest again, pretending he didn't hear it.

#

"Coward," Anduin chuckled to Khadgar. He raised his voice to call back to the guard, "Please tell her we will join her in a half-hour. And that we're both well."

With his half-awake mind, he mused that Khadgar was much like any baby animal–despite how very much he was not a child in any way–in that when you removed young from their parents too early in the wild, they too craved affection and made better companions. The mage, despite outward appearances of independence–was the clingiest partner Anduin had ever had.

He didn't mind it, though. In many ways, after who he had lost, he needed it, even. Someone who wanted to be around him as much as he wanted to be around them. The reassuring physical contact of someone living. He had slept only with ghosts for decades, and this warm body in his arms was making up for it.

He kissed Khadgar again. "Feeling okay?" He asked. 

#

A half hour didn't seem like long enough to Khadgar. Then again, a few more hours didn't sound like long enough either; but Khadgar knew he needed to clean up a little. He was pretty sure there was still blood in his hair.

He nodded and reluctantly sat up, wincing when it made the ache in his head flare up for a moment before fading back down to bearable levels. He reached up to rub his head where the wound had been; obviously it was completely healed, with Tyrande having healed it herself, but it was hard to believe when it had just been split open by a Dwarven hammer yesterday.

He shuddered at the thought, and wondered how Dion was doing. He still needed to thank him–the man had saved his life, and nearly lost his own.

#

Anduin smiled at Khadgar and took his head in his hands, inspecting it. "I wiped most everything off, but you'll probably want a bath," he said.

He'd used the spell to empty the tub again the night before; feeling like he was almost at the end of being able to do any magic if their venture to heal Khadgar went well, he wanted to take advantage of the time he had left. He filled the tub up with a spill of magic words from his lips and grinned at the mage.

"I'm going to miss this," he admitted honestly. "Now come over here."

He knelt by the tub, waiting for Khadgar to comply.

#

Khadgar couldn't help but smile when Anduin easily used the spell he'd used the night before, this time as smoothly as if he'd been doing it for years. He slowly stood up, a little unsteady on his feet after so long resting with a concussion, and walked over to where Anduin knelt.

He leaned over a bit, cupping Anduin's face with one hand and kissing him in thanks. Somehow, he doubted that Anduin minded him using that instead of a verbal 'thank you'. He was definitely going to miss this.

#

Anduin splashed Khadgar with the water, and lifted the bottle of shampoo by the tub. He waggled it at him.

"Come on, certainly you're not shy around me now. We have...I would say twenty minutes before we get another guard at our door. Get in."

He looked at the mage expectantly, silently laughing at how long Khadgar was taking.

#

Khadgar pretty much pouted. Of course he was taking his time–his head hurt and he was enjoying what little time he had before there were more problems to deal with. He sighed and stripped down, pleasantly surprised when he got in and the water wasn't freezing cold.

He leaned back and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, though he hissed softly when he lowered his hands in the water; he'd forgotten about the slight burns on his wrists from the bindings yesterday. Tyrande had, of course, healed the more pressing matter of the head wound, and he couldn't blame her.

#

"Liferoot?" Anduin questioned, remember what felt like a lifetime ago when Khadgar had first been bound by the Dark Irons. "That's what will help with the pain, right? We'll get you some on our way from the healers."

He cupped some water over Khadgar's hair, mindful of his ears and face, and began lathering shampoo into his scalp. He massaged him with his fingers as he went, from his temples back to the nape of his neck.

He shook his head. "I would like to exile those Dwarves to Draenor. Let the Orcs and the Dark Irons fight among themselves and leave the rest of us in peace.”

But Khadgar couldn't speak, and that was becoming more frustrating for Anduin by the minute. "After breakfast maybe we'll start that spell of yours. I want you to be able to talk with me again."

He rinsed his hair, then started with the soap, again lathering and massaging the mage's shoulders.

#

If Anduin wanted to encourage Khadgar to hurry today, he wasn't aiding his own cause. Khadgar very nearly melted into the touches, and would have moaned if he'd been able; instead, he nodded mindlessly to whatever Anduin just said, because really, he would agree to anything if the man kept doing _that_.

Before he came to Stormwind, before he met Anduin, he didn't think much about this–about how this kind of closeness could feel. He didn't think he particularly needed it, especially after years of the Kirin Tor insisting that close relationships were a bad idea. He figured as a future Guardian, or even as a runaway mage, he was destined to be alone.

Now, he couldn't imagine life without Anduin. Strange how things changed.

He heard that last part Anduin said, though, and he agreed with it. As amazing as it was to watch Anduin work with the arcane, he really wanted to be able to talk and cast spells himself again. When he couldn't use his magic, it was like a part of him was missing.

#

Anduin worked his way lower to the small of Khadgar's back, then once again rinsed him off, watching the way the water ran down the mage's skin. He patted him fondly, then went to grab a soft towel from the nearby chair, holding it out to Khadgar for when he had finished with the rest of his body.

He was pleased to see a content expression on the mage's face. It was hard to know what he would like or wouldn't like as he was so silent.

"Liferoot, Taria, and then your voice," Anduin said, laying out the next few hours of their lives.

#

Khadgar nodded and made quick work of drying himself off, getting dressed in something comfortable for the day–he had the feeling he would appreciate it later. He waited for Anduin to get ready, then they both headed to the healer, then to breakfast. 

Breakfast was uneventful–which was kind of to be expected when one party involved couldn't speak–and afterward, Khadgar led the way to the library, where it would be easiest to plan and perform the spell in question. He could feel his heart beating faster with nervousness as he got out books and parchment, motioning for Anduin to wait while he wrote out instructions.

_The incantation is "Belore'ana tu falanore al'talan, al tera gal'morae fel'tu." Go ahead and practice it some without actually casting. Remember, if you lose focus, don't panic._

_I'll be able to guide you once you get started. You'll know exactly where to build barriers–I'll make it as obvious as possible. Just keep focusing on me and where I'm guiding you. If you start to get overwhelmed, don't hesitate to stop the spell entirely; I may get disoriented for a few moments, but we can start over if we need to._

_I trust you._

He handed the page to Anduin with a reassuring smile, trying not to let his nervousness show. He did trust Anduin, but it was hard not to be nervous when someone was going to be pretty much inside his mind, however briefly. He sat down and waited patiently for Anduin to read the instructions and prepare.

#

Anduin swallowed, the apple of his throat bobbing. He couldn't ask him for reassurances–Khadgar _needed_ him to do this. He couldn't control his magic and he'd lost his very voice. He _needed_ Anduin to be strong.

Even though the obviously worried glances Khadgar was shifting his way were not helping his confidence.

"Stop," he finally said. "Stop. Khadgar, it will be all right." He bent to catch Khadgar's eye and gave him the most reassuring smile he could muster.

Doing as he was told, he mouthed the words Khadgar had written down, and then asked for inflection when he was unsure, reading Khadgar's answers carefully.

"All right," he said at long last. He gave Khadgar a kiss on his lips. "If you're ready, I am."

_I think._

 

 


	13. Thirteenth Installment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the royal family plot something with Khadgar for Anduin and the Dark Irons wreak havoc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so very sorry for such a long wait between chapters. I promise that I will continue to post these until it's complete, even if I'm slow about it!
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who is still reading along! 
> 
> <3 Genuinelie

"All right," Anduin said at long last. He gave Khadgar a kiss on his lips. "If you're ready, I am."

_I think._

_#_

Khadgar nodded and returned the kiss, and then took Anduin's hands in his and lifted them to his head, placing them in the same way he'd held his own when he did the first part of the spell on Anduin. He could feel the arcane energy humming in both himself and Anduin, their nervous energy agitating it, and he closed his eyes and nodded.

 

He had to focus himself; he easily found where the barriers had been, and focused on those areas intently, knowing that he couldn't falter- one misstep could throw Anduin off, and that could be disastrous.

 

#

 

Anduin felt the magic thrum inside him, and as always, it felt like Khadgar. That was what he was going to miss the most - not the tricks he could do, but the feeling that Khadgar was with him no matter where he was.

He drew in a steadying breath and spoke the spell.

For a dizzying, heartstopping moment, the feeling of being _inside_ Khadgar overwhelmed him.

_Remember what he said,_ Anduin reminded himself. _Focus._

He picked up the thread of his consciousness again and probed his way into his lover's mind. Sure enough, as Khadgar had said, he felt as if he were being guided to where he needed to be. He just needed to relax and let the natural flow take him where he should be, rather than muddling through on his own.

 

#

 

Khadgar had to keep focusing to avoid being overwhelmed himself- this wasn't a feeling he was used to either, after all. He kept his hands gripped over Anduin's, guiding his every move, trusting Anduin to follow his lead.

 

It was hard work, focusing on guiding someone else through a spell like this. By the time Khadgar felt the final barrier set into place and the last of the arcane energy leave Anduin, he collapsed forward against him from the dizzy spell that slammed into him, his whole body trembling with the rush of the arcane powering back through him.

 

#

 

The magic left him in a rush as the final barrier was finished. 

 

The sudden absence of the arcane, the absence of _Khadgar_  within him left him bereft in a way he hadn't planned for. It had only been a matter of days, and what had been inside of him had always felt foreign, so going back to being wholly himself should not have made him feel like he was no longer complete.

 

Khadgar stumbled into him and he held him up, hoping to the Light that it had worked.

 

As he struggled with Khadgar's body, it was to his mortification that he realized he was sobbing. He couldn't have stopped if he'd tried, the emptiness was too consuming. He hadn't even thought he'd cried for Callan, not really - he usually shed his tears through drink. Knowing there was barely a chance Khadgar wouldn't have noticed he bent, seeking Khadgar's lips, selfish in his need for contact. He grasped Khadgar to him so that every inch of their bodies were touching, but it still wasn't enough to replace what had left. 

 

"Can you speak?" He gasped in a mockery of composure.

 

#

 

Khadgar clung to Anduin, his head reeling as he fought to go through his own mind and make sure all was intact. The barriers were there, as strong as they had been before- all his usual powers were available to him, it seemed- now there was one last thing to try.

 

"Y-yes," he managed, the word coming out a little rough, a little weak, but _there_. He let out a breath of relief and looked up at Anduin, and his expression immediately became one of concern.

 

"Are you alright?" he asked, reaching up to wipe a tear from Anduin's cheek. He was terrified for a moment that the spell had gone wrong somehow, had hurt Anduin, and he wouldn't be able to get rid of the guilt if that happened- if Anduin had been damaged in the process of helping him.

 

#

 

"Thank the Light," Anduin said, and kissed him again. 

 

He pressed the kisses over his cheeks, down his neck, and back up to his mouth. His eyes when they looked at Khadgar were pleading. "I'm all right. But," he touch his chest above his heart briefly. "I hadn't expected this. I feel...I feel hollow," he said. "You aren't inside of me anymore. Please."

 

He wasn't entirely sure what he was asking, but he stepped into Khadgar again, trying to get closer to the mage. 

 

#

 

Khadgar;s heart broke at the sound of Anduin's voice. He hadn't expected that either- that this would be a side effect, that using his own magic for this would cause Anduin that kind of anguish. He reached up to cup Anduin's face with both hands this time, pulling him up into a kiss, pressing them together as close as he could get.

 

"It's okay," he barely broke the kiss to say. "I'm here."

 

#

 

That elicited a chuckle from Anduin. "All right. Can you possibly be _more_  here?" He asked, trying to maneuver them both toward the bed while maintaining contact, his eyes on Khadgar's face. 

 

His voice lowered again. "Please."

 

He sat down on the bed himself, looking up at Khadgar with worried eyes. 

 

The feeling of not being a whole person was lessening, but the yearning was not. It felt horribly close to bereavement, in fact.

 

#

 

Khadgar laughed himself, and then he readily moved forward, straddling Anduin on the edge of the bed and pulling him back into the kiss.

 

"Yeah, I can do that," he said, getting comfortable and relaxing into it. He was obviously more _himself_ now that he had full access to his powers back; he didn't feel helpless or frustrated anymore, though he hated that he'd inadvertently caused Anduin pain.

 

He grabbed the hem of Anduin's shirt and broke the kiss only long enough to tug it up and off him before kissing him again, deeper this time.

 

#

 

Anduin relaxed into the kiss, helping support Khadgar's weight as they stripped off the upper layers of their clothing. 

 

He kissed down Khadgar's jawline to his collarbone and chest, pausing only to lick a nipple before coming back up to claim his lips. Slowly he reclined onto the bed until he was on his back with Khadgar over him. 

 

He wasn't even sure if he would enjoy what he was about to suggest, but anything less than would still not be enough. He looked into Khadgar's eyes with a hint of nervousness in his own. He wasn't even sure if _Khadgar_  would want what he was about to suggest. Their roles had always seemed to be naturally defined, and between the two of them, Khadgar seemed slightly more submissive. He wasn't sure if that was lack of experience or natural disposition, but it didn't matter to Anduin either way. He would have him any way that pleased the mage.

 

Though he seemed perfectly happy to initiate things. 

 

"Will you please try what we did before?" Anduin licked his lips. "On me. I would like...I need to feel you inside me again."

 

#

 

Khadgar's breath came shorter and he moaned softly as Anduin kissed his way down and back up, and he readily returned the kiss again. When Anduin pulled him down, he pressed his hips down against Anduin's, his cock already hard and straining against his pants.

 

He looked up in surprise at Anduin's question, though- he hadn't expected it in the least. Not that he was complaining, but it wasn't really something he'd thought about- until now, of course.  

 

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low with arousal. "I mean, yes, just...so long as you're sure."

 

It was another bit of pressure for the day- he didn't want to hurt Anduin physically when he'd already hurt him mentally without meaning to. Granted, they did have a better idea of how this worked now, so he had that advantage; but still, he was nervous, even if a surge of arousal rushed through him at the idea.

 

#

 

"If it's that terrible, I shouldn't be doing it to you, either," Anduin said with a hint of irritation. Had Khadgar allowed him to hurt him the last time?

 

But no. He remembered how much Khadgar had been enjoying himself near the end. They could do this, and they could make it work.

 

He ran his hands up Khadgar's thighs, then clutched his obviously interested erection through the cloth. He rubbed his palm over Khadgar encouragingly. 

 

"Yes, I'm sure, spell-chucker," he said. He kissed his lips. "Khadgar. Please." He smiled, and took a risk with an ill-timed joke. "I've been run through by worse, and less pleasantly."

 

#

 

"It's not terrible," Khadgar insisted, because it definitely wasn't, once they figured it out.

 

He was just...nervous. He couldn't help it. Though it was hard to focus on that when Anduin started palming him through his pants, and he dropped his head forward on Anduin's chest with a groan, rocking his hips into the touch.

 

The next groan he let out, though, wasn't one of pleasure, but a groan at the awful joke. "Oh Light, I hate you so much," he mumbled, though there was no actual hatred in his tone- just fond exasperation. He lifted his head and kissed Anduin again, then he sat up on his knees.

 

"Scoot up," he ordered, grabbing the oil from the nightstand while Anduin was getting situated fully on the bed. He was going to do his best to make sure that Anduin really , really enjoyed this; and he started by kissing his way down Anduin's chest and stomach before tugging his pants down and off, teasingly slow.

 

#

 

Anduin grinned, relieved that Khadgar could at least joke about what had happened to some degree. Despite his own trouble dealing with the aftermath of the battle, he knew Khadgar had been actually traumatized by his death. He couldn't fix it for him, but he thought if they could bring it up, at least, however inappropriately, perhaps it would get better for them both.

 

The blood rushed straight to Anduin's cock, at least what wasn't there already. Khadgar was teasing him, and it sent warmth into his chest to see the desire in Khadgar's eyes. He did want this too, then.

 

He was caught between enjoying the focus Khadgar was lavishing on him and wanting to nag him into going faster. He settled for a hand on Khadgar's head, encouraging him and stroking his fingers through his hair.

 

For once he was quiet, simply watching Khadgar; if the mage had never lain with anyone else, Anduin was doubly glad to be able to give this to him. 

 

#

 

Khadgar loved the encouragement, loved knowing that what he was doing was good for Anduin, too; he took hold of Anduin's cock and stroked excruciatingly slowly, planning to distract him as best he could for the first part. He ran his tongue around the head of Anduin's cock before taking him into his mouth, looking up through his lashes at him as he slowly took more in.

 

With his other hand he'd been getting a few fingers coated in the oil, and as his mouth slid further down, he began to press one finger into Anduin, going slow with that, too. He remembered that it wasn't exactly pleasant if done too quickly- not that Anduin hadn't made up for it later.

 

#

 

Anduin moaned as Khadgar slid his mouth over him. He spread his legs invitingly, but nevertheless he startled when Khadgar pushed a finger inside. The sensations were...confusing, to say the least. And it was _just_  a finger. Khadgar himself was not ill-endowed. 

 

It wasn't necessarily unpleasant, however. Just...different. Knowing that even a piece of Khadgar was further inside of him satisfied a part of the need left from loss of magic. What Khadgar was doing with his tongue was more than adequate distraction as well. 

 

He groaned when he looked down and saw that Khadgar was actually looking back at him as he swallowed him.

 

_Light, was he actually nervous?_  It had seemed like such a good idea moments ago, when all he could think about was having Khadgar inside of him again. 

 

_Khadgar enjoyed this,_  he reminded himself. _And he'll enjoy himself now regardless of how you end up feeling about it._  

 

#

 

Khadgar slid his mouth up and back down again, swirling his tongue around the tip of Anduin's cock each time he pulled back. As he did, he slowly pressed further into

Anduin until he was buried to the knuckle.

 

His own cock was almost painfully hard, but he refused to rush this. He put as much effort as he could into his attention on Anduin's cock, thrusting his finger in and back out a few times until he felt Anduin relax around him.

 

He added the next finger carefully, slowly, and simultaneously took Anduin as deep as he could into his mouth, almost to the point of triggering his gag reflex. The man was so tight around just two of his fingers, he wondered how this would even work.

 

#

 

Anduin's breathing quickened and he bucked into Khadgar's mouth. At first his body rebelled at the intrusion, but for some reason, Khadgar was extremely good at what he was doing and soon loosened with his touch. Maybe it was just memory from how he had felt as Anduin had done the same. He didn't have the coherency to think about it at the moment.

 

"Khadgar," he groaned. "I'm going to finish before you're even inside me. Please."

 

He was aching, and he felt himself dripping into Khadgar's throat. It was all he could do not to thrust as Khadgar did his job for him and he felt the tip of his cock touch the back of Khadgar's mouth. He let out an incoherent noise, rational thought almost leaving him entirely. 

 

#

 

Khadgar pulled off Anduin's cock and smirked, because if anything told him he'd been doing a good job, it was that. He scissored his fingers inside Anduin, stretching just that much more before he pulled them out and crawled up Anduin's body to kiss him.

 

"If it's too much, tell me to stop," he said, shifting to shove his pants down and off. Truth be told, he was going to have an uphill fight not to come the second he was inside Anduin.

 

He was trembling from both nervousness and need as he positioned himself and slowly, slowly pushed forward, breathing in short gasps as that incredible heat clenched around him. 

 

_Light_ , it felt good. He was halfway in when he had to stop for a moment, taking deep breaths and pressing his forehead against Anduin's, trying not to lose it. 

 

" _Light_ , Anduin..."

 

#

 

Anduin grinned around a wince; though he wouldn't have gone back on his word, it was blindingly painful at the outset. Now that Khadgar was more fully inside him, however, the discomfort had become tolerable. He just had to force himself to relax. He'd suffered through enough battle wounds that this wasn't going to faze him - though there was no way he was going to describe this experience in those terms later to Khadgar.

 

Everything was worth seeing that expression on Khadgar's face, and that tone with those words. He lifted up his head and kissed Khadgar passionately. 

 

He tried to remember the angle he'd gotten when they'd tried this the first time with their roles reversed. He shifted his hips up, slowly, carefully, because Khadgar really wasn't small. 

 

"Ah!" He gasped, and there it was. "This angle," he urged Khadgar. He grabbed a pillow and stuffed it under his back to keep himself positioned properly. He clenched his fists around Khadgar's ass, the flats of his fingers digging into the flesh. 

 

And it helped. It helped him feel like he wasn't alone, so much, here in his own skin.

 

"You're doing beautifully," he said, his voice a low rumble. Then in a complete deadpan, he added, "Please move, spell-chucker. And _touch me."_

 

#

 

"Getting a little pushy?" Khadgar asked with a strained laugh, just getting to the point where he felt like he wasn't going to lose it if he moved so much as an inch. He bit his lip so hard that it almost bled as he started to move again, pushing forward until he was fully sheathed inside Anduin. 

 

He only paused a moment, then, before he pulled partway out and thrust forward again, doing his best to keep the angle that Anduin wanted. He braced one arm on the bed beside Anduin's head, and then slid the other one down to take Anduin's cock firmly in his hand, stroking in time with each thrust as he began moving quicker. Anduin seemed to relax more into with every moment, still almost painfully tight, and Khadgar knew he wasn't going to last incredibly long.

 

He leaned down and caught Anduin's lips in a breathless kiss. "I love you," he said between kisses, mindless of the noise they were making and the rhythmic tapping of the head of the bed against the wall.

 

#

 

Anduin actually cried out, so loudly he was sure the entire wing must have heard, as Khadgar thrust and hit a spot inside of him that made his vision go white with pleasure. 

 

Then the other man grabbed him, and simultaneously picked up a fast, hard rhythm that hit _that spot_  over and over again.

 

Anduin gave up on any shred of control and picked up Khadgar's movements with his own hips, shoving against him and seeking the friction of Khadgar's fist. He writhed under Khadgar, uncaring of how he looked. The sensations were too much and not enough, both at the same time. 

 

"Khadgar..." he repeated his name like a mantra as his fingers clenched into the sheets. He was pounded down into the mattress with every push of Khadgar's cock, and he knew his back was not going to thank him when this was over, but everything was so overwhelmingly good that he couldn't give it more than a passing thought. 

 

Suddenly it became too much, and he shouted again as he spilled over them both in his release, shaking with the intensity of it. 

 

#

 

Khadgar groaned and had to brace his other hand on the bed as Anduin clenched down around him with release; it was overwhelming, the look on Anduin's face, the way he was pushing into every movement, and Khadgar gave up trying to hold on. His thrusts lost their rhythm as he shoved deep into Anduin, unable to hold back after watching Anduin fall apart like that.

 

It was only a few more thrusts before Khadgar shuddered and came hard with a wrecked moan of Anduin's name. He collapsed on top of him, trying to catch his breath, pleasure still humming through his veins just as potently as his magic.

 

"Told you it wasn't terrible," he said with a satisfied smirk, still breathing hard as he lifted his head to look at Anduin.

 

#

 

Anduin buried his fingers in Khadgar's hair, breathing heavily. He forced open his eyes and was rewarded to see Khadgar's happy, flushed face, his lips still red from biting them. Anduin kissed them and let his head fall back again. 

 

"Far from it," Anduin breathed as he massaged Khadgar's scalp lazily. "Thank you," he added.

 

It really had helped. Maybe it was just the time that had passed since Khadgar took his magic back, but he felt connected to Khadgar in a deep, visceral way in that moment, and it chased away any lingering feelings of incompleteness. 

 

"The castle staff is going to quit, and Taria is going to have our hides," he added with a rueful laugh.

 

His mind trailed away then, to another room in another house in Stormwind. It had been months since he had been there, but it was still his to claim. 

 

Now that he was regent, he would never truly be able to call it home again - but it would make a decent enough retreat. They would get to that question in time, he supposed. 

 

"I love you, too," he added, answering the words that Khadgar had called out moments before.

 

#

 

Khadgar laid his head down on Anduin's chest as they both came down from the high, enjoying the touches to his scalp and just taking in the moment. No immediate disasters, both of them were here, safe, and whole- it seemed a rare event, these days, that they could claim that. And even with the threat of the fel hanging over their heads, Khadgar wasn't letting that ruin this moment for him.

 

He did, however, have at least the courtesy to get up and fetch a cloth to get them both cleaned up, because they were kind of a mess. He laid back down next to Anduin after, setting one of his hands on the man's chest to feel his heartbeat.

 

"Thank you...for all your help during that spell," he said softly, absent-mindedly tracing patterns on Anduin's skin with two fingers. "I wasn't expecting the price paid for the temporary transfer to be the loss of my voice. Could have prepared better."

 

To say the least. He definitely wouldn't have done it during an important feast, if he knew what he was going to lose. It had almost been a disaster.

 

"I should go see Dion soon," he added after a moment, his tone one of regret now. "I need to thank him. See how he's doing."

 

#  


"I don't know how you could have," Anduin said in surprise. "Sometimes things just go wrong, Khadgar. We try our best and fail anyway. You'll have a hard life if you beat yourself up for things like this."

 

He kissed Khadgar's head. "You wouldn't tell me the things you tell yourself about my own mistakes," he added.

 

The soft lines Khadgar was drawing made Anduin's skin tingle, just a hair on the good side of ticklish. "I should see the man myself and thank him better for saving your life," he said. "Do you want me to come with you? Or would you prefer to go on your own? I know you've bonded," Anduin added with a teasing smile.

 

#

 

"Can't help it," Khadgar said with a soft laugh. "I've been told I'm a _little_ bit of a perfectionist."

 

The second part was said with a tone that said Khadgar knew that was a complete and total understatement; he was fully aware that he was a perfectionist. You didn't get through school in Dalaran unless you were one, or learned how to be one very quickly.

 

"I think I can manage on my own. Besides, I don't even know if he'll be awake," he added, sitting up and stretching. "Might stop by the library on my way there. I know there were a couple of books on Darnassian culture that he was reading; he'll probably want them while he's on bedrest."

 

He didn't want to get up, but they didn't really have an excuse to be sleeping in the middle of the day- other than having tired themselves out. But there were things to do, of course, now that he was back at full strength.

 

#

 

Anduin sighed his begrudging agreement and searched around for his castoff clothes. He could help the uncomfortable moan as he sat up, however; his ass aside, which was not going to be fun to sit on for a while, his back was killing him. He felt like he'd gone on a ten-hour journey by gryphon. He put his palm of his hand in the middle of his spine for support as he stood up to get dressed. 

 

It was all well and good for Khadgar, who couldn't be twenty-two at the very most - and that was something he should probably clarify, he mused. Even if it was too late now to let conscience over an age difference stop their relationship. His back hadn't been through countless wars and skirmishes. Getting slammed down on rocks repeatedly and falling from mounts in battles tended to give your body some lasting creaks. 

 

"I'll be going back down to the barracks, then, since you interrupted my work yesterday," Anduin said with a suggestive smirk as he pulled on his tunic.

 

#

 

Khadgar gave Anduin a sympathetic look as he pulled on clean clothes of his own- he knew some of that pain, at least. "I didn't hear you complaining about me interrupting you," he said with a grin. "And hey, at least you don't have to go ride a horse all day now."

 

With that said, he pulled Anduin into a firm kiss before he left the room- and turned to find two servant girls down the hallway, red faced and gossiping. They froze as they saw him, and then began loudly discussing the menu for that evening's supper.

 

Khadgar rolled his eyes and walked by them; no doubt they would be telling everyone they knew about what they heard, but he was past the point of caring.

 

He headed for the library, and when he opened the doors, he was surprised to find it wasn't unoccupied- Taria was there with Varian and his sister. "Lady Taria!" Khadgar said with a smile. "Wasn't expecting to find you three in here."

 

#

 

Taria looked up with an answering smile. "Khadgar! It's so good to see you looking healthy. We were all so worried."

 

"Hello, Khadgar!" Varian and his sister called in tandem. Both children beamed happily at the Guardian. 

 

"We were so worried," Adariall echoed her mother. "They said you were kidnapped. I didn't think that could happen to adults, but mother says that it happens too frequently, and usually to people like us, which is why we shouldn't play hide-and-seek with our guards so much."

 

Taria's lips twitched as she looked over her children's heads to Khadgar. "Well. At least he's safe, now. I cannot believe how bold a move that was from the Dark Irons, especially after they came to ask for our aid."

 

#

 

"Not quite kidnapped. Almost. And I'm fine now, thanks to the High Priestess," he said to reassure the two children before he looked to Taria. "And I don't think they actually came to request help, but force it, rather."

 

If they had enough leverage, after all, they would have the Stormwind army at their beck and call to avoid losing their Guardian. Though Khadgar hoped Anduin would never give in like that to the Dark Iron, were it to happen.

 

"But that's enough talk about the dwarves," Khadgar said, leaning on the table next to Varian. "What are you two working on?"

 

#  


The two small royals exchanged mischievous looks and giggled while Taria smiled fondly at them. "Lothar's-Anduin's," she corrected herself, with an apologetic smile at Khadgar. "I'm sorry, it's habit in the public eye to call my own brother Sir Lothar. Llane never did, but Llane was king. I must be careful to avoid seeming like I pull favorites, or that I am being disrespectful to Stormwind's regent." 

 

"We're planning Uncle Anduin's birthday party," Varian interrupted, bouncing on his heels excitedly. "Mother says we must keep it with just us and you and Guard Dion and Thelae, or we'll embarrass him."

 

Adariall jabbed her brother in the side with her elbow. "We're not supposed to say that."

 

Taria looked like it took real effort not to roll her eyes. "I think it would be more meaningful for him to be reminded he has a family. He spends so much time worrying about who he is as regent and commander, I think he forgets about those who still love him as Anduin. So," and her tone brightened almost girlishly. "We thought we'd plan him a party. His forty-second birthday is in three weeks, and I thought it would be good to celebrate his being alive and with us after everything that has happened."

 

"We're going to go to his house," Adariall added, beaming.

 

"Perhaps you would like to help us?" Taria added. 

 

#

 

Khadgar blinked, and thought over what they said. Birthday? He knew what a birthday was, of _course_ he did, but...he wasn't really sure about everything else.

 

"I'm, uh...not following," he said with a laugh. "You're having a party, right? But what's his birthday got to do with it?"

 

A party to celebrate being alive, he could understand. And he was totally on board with that, no doubt. But he wasn't sure what the act of turning 42 had to do with the whole party thing. It wasn't an important milestone age, even, as far as he knew.

 

He only realized that he may have said something stupid when he realized that the two kids were staring at him wide-eyed.

 

#

 

Even Taria looked horrified at that. She exchanged an openmouthed look with her children before the Queen at least recovered her poise. 

 

"Did the Kirin Tor...not celebrate birthdays?" She asked delicately. 

 

The kids meanwhile had not stopped looking like Khadgar had just killed their favorite pet. 

 

"You don't know what a birthday party is?" Adariall asked, clearly appalled. 

 

"How old are you?" Varian demanded, his voice that of a small king. "And when is your birthday? Mother, did you hear him?"

 

"You have a birthday party every year," Adariall said, making it sound like she thought he was the stupidest person on Azeroth. "Your friends come, or your family if you haven't got any, and you get presents. And sweets."

 

#

 

Khadgar shook his head slowly. "Um. No," he said, obviously confused. 

 

And when they asked him when his birthday was, the appalled looks on their faces only seemed to deepen when he actually had to take a few long moments to try and remember- he rarely had need to remember it over the years. "I'm 20," he started out firmly, because he knew that, for sure. And he knew his birthday. He did. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, hesitating. "My birthday is...August 11th."

 

A pause.

 

"I think."

 

He shifted his weight uncomfortably, because it was obvious now that birthdays were some kind of big deal here; he did feel kind of stupid.

 

#

 

"Well," Taria said, clapping her hands. "That's settled, then. Expect your first birthday party this year, Khadgar. You're family now, after all."

 

The children gave little cheers.

 

"We get to plan two parties!" Adariall cried excitedly while Varian beamed as if he'd planned everything to lead up to that declaration. 

 

"We'll teach you how, don't worry," Varian said confidently. "The trick is just to think about what the other person would like. Not what you would like. I wanted to go jousting on Ada's birthday, but she wanted to go dancing, so we went dancing. See?" He seemed extremely proud of his selflessness.

 

#

 

"Really, you don't have to do that. That seems like...a lot of trouble over me," Khadgar said with a chuckle, running his hand through his hair. 

 

But he was already wondering what he should get Anduin for his birthday, given that it seemed more of a big deal here; he would probably be asking Taria for advice on that later.

 

"Tell me more about what you plan to do for your Uncle's party," he said to Varian, knowing that would get them talking about something else before he outright went up in flames in embarrassment.

 

#

 

"You'll have to tell us what you like before then," Adariall said one last thing on the matter. "Uncle Anduin likes berries and cream tarts and I like chocolate, but since we haven't celebrated your birthday yet we won't know what to give you." She sounded distressed.

 

"It's harder without cousin, isn't it?" Varian said a moment later. Taria put her hands on his shoulders. "He used to help."

 

"We're going to clean his old house," Taria said with a kind, understanding look at Khadgar. "Where he used to live with Callan in Old Town. He hasn't been back and it has so many memories, but I think he can't quite bring himself to do it, so that will be our gift to him."

 

"And we'll have treats," Varian said. "And a music-player from the Dwarves."

 

"And balloons," Adariall added.

 

"And he likes spicy talbuk and fry bread," Varian said. "And herb baked eggs."

 

"And beer," Adariall said with a wrinkle of her nose, "Which is gross."

 

"He prefers mead," Taria said smiling. "That's as far as we've gotten."

 

#  


Khadgar chuckled and was about to reply when he heard a _thump_  outside the door. He frowned and pushed away from the table, looking toward it- just as the door opened and three Dark Iron dwarves came through.

 

" _Ana'falare tular_!" Khadgar shouted, knocking them back and away from the kids with an arcane blast. Unfortunately, the two terrified children ran in opposite directions, just as other Dark Irons spilled into the room.

 

They were severely outnumbered, and Khadgar was the only thing standing between the Queen and the attackers.

 

"Stay behind me!" he yelled to Taria, deflecting a sword slashed his way with a brief incantation and the flash of a shield.

 

" _Ahn laktun modr gall!_ " one of the dwarves yelled- roughly translated 'shut that mage up'.

 

He couldn't let himself be silenced, and he couldn't let them have the Queen or either of the children. 

 

Two of the dwarves split off, one running toward each of the two hiding children, and Khadgar's stomach dropped. " _Ul aman hakkar_!" he yelled, throwing a hand in Varian's direction, and a blue shield formed around him just as the dwarf got to him. " _Kah tular fal'tan melorn_!" 

 

He flung his other hand toward the dwarf heading for Ada, and a fireball slammed into the dwarf before he could reach her. Unfortunately, casting those two spells had left him defenseless, and a sword slashed at him, this time cutting through the cloth and flesh of his left arm. He cried out and stumbled back, clutching his arm close.

 

"Run!" he yelled to the kids and Taria as he shakily deflected another blow with a brief shield, but the dwarves were already headed for the fleeing kids, their obvious main target. 

 

He knew what he had to do; he also knew what it would mean for him and Taria.

 

" _Il'hala malorne felo'talal, mark'ta tu lo'golorn_!" he shouted, the glow in his eyes brightening- and an ice wall shot up behind him and Taria, separating the dwarves from their targets and giving the children the opportunity to escape.

 

One of the dwarves struck Khadgar in the stomach and brought him to his knees, and when Taria moved to help, two of them grabbed her and held her in place. Khadgar gasped for air, his arm throbbing with intense pain and blood dripping to the floor below as one of the dwarves grabbed him by the hair and held him still for another to strap a gag in place.

 

At least he'd saved the children.

 

"Let's see you cast your fancy spells now," the dwarf growled, and then he slammed his fist into Khadgar's temple, knocking the Guardian out cold.

 

The dwarf turned to Taria. "Come quietly and cooperate, or we'll leave his head for his lover to find," he snapped, and she nodded, having gone pale. The dwarf snapped another order, and the other dwarves bound Khadgar in a pair of binding cuffs before they quickly dragged the unconscious Guardian and the Queen out to where their allies waited with their gryphons.

 

#

 

Varian and Adariall ran as fast as they could; they had just been given a very long lesson on what to do by their mother if they were kidnapped. They alerted every palace guard they saw but dodged every attempt to grab them, so it was with five guards in tow that they made their way at a sprint to their Uncle Anduin's room. 

 

They were dismayed to find it empty. They turned to the out of breath guards, panicking. "Where's Sir Lothar?" Varian asked, using his King voice and the title Kings were supposed to use for his uncle.

 

"The barracks, likely, your highness," one of the guards said, huffing. "But please, come with-"

 

"No!" Adariall stomped her foot. "Come along."

 

The children took off again. One of the guards managed to catch Adariall, though. "I'm sorry, my lady. Your mother ordered us not to let you leave the castle without her permission."

 

"We can tell-" Another guard started.

 

"Run, Varian!" Adariall shrieked.

 

The young King took off, with the other guards following unhappily as he ran through Stormwind. They burst into the barracks with Varian yelling for his uncle.

 

Anduin shot out of the room at the first indication of a commotion. His heart sank when he saw Varian, his face tearful, and the entourage of soldiers behind him. He didn't even need to ask, signaling for more guards to come with them as he ran back to the castle with Varian. 

 

"What happened?" He bit out.

 

"They took Mother and Khadgar," Varian said tearfully. "They had red eyes, and they came, and Khadgar sent up ice so they couldn't get us, but they were on the other side..."

 

"Adariall?" Anduin asked around the knife in his throat.

 

"She's okay, but a guard got her. So I ran to get you alone."

 

"Good man," Anduin praised him. "I'm sorry, my King, but please go back to the castle where you'll be safe. It's my job to protect you. You protect your sister for me, all right?"

 

Varian nodded solemnly and Anduin took off for the gryphon roost. He grabbed a bird and took the skies, but there was not even a speck in the distance. Cursing, he flew back to the castle. 

 

His mind was panicking. He wanted to fly straight to the Dark Irons based on Varian's description, but he knew he had no chance alone, and more than that, his first duty was still to the young King. He couldn't leave Stormwind without a Queen and regent both, not so recklessly. 

 

_It's just a kidnapping,_  he told himself. _Varian did not say they were harmed. They only want to make us assist them in their war against the Orcs._

 

It didn't help his pounding heart. 

 

He flew his gryphon into the main hall of the castle and jumped off at a run, going to find Dion and Thelae. He would need a small group he could trust. Despite his burning, consuming rage, he could not put them at direct war with the Dark Irons, not yet, not until he knew more. It could be a small independent band of Dwarves doing this, or it could be a directive from the leader himself. Until he was sure, an assault would not be the right thing to do. 

 

"Dion!" He shrieked, running to find the guard.

 

#

 

Dion was standing in the armory, arguing with one of the healers about whether or not he was fit for duty when he heard Anduin yell for him- and the tone made Dion's chest tighten. He ran to meet Anduin, one hand instinctively going for the sword that wasn't yet there.

 

"What's happened?" he asked, looking at the general panic in the room- something serious, then.

 

He suddenly feared the worst, judging by the look on Anduin's face.

 

\------

 

Khadgar woke slowly to a sharp pain throbbing in his left arm, his wrists burning, and the distinct feeling of his powers suppressed under iron. He tried to move- and quickly discovered that he couldn't.

 

That woke him up. He lifted his head with a groan- great, another headache- and his breath caught when he realized where he was.

 

Back in the dark dungeons of the dwarves.

 

But he wasn't in a cell. Taria sat in a cell not far from him, but Khadgar was seated in a chair in the middle of the main room, his arms bound behind the chair in iron manacles. He could feel something tied around his left arm- the most mediocre attempt at a bandage on the cut on his arm. He was no longer gagged, but the iron cuffs on his arms proved that unnecessary.

 

They seems to be alone, for the moment, but he knew that wouldn't last.

 

"Taria," he said, his voice strained. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"

 

#

 

"Not very much," Taria said ruefully. Her own hands were unbound, but she kept them clasped in her lap. She looked sadly at Khadgar's wrists. 

 

"That is what they did to you last time, is it not?" She asked. "When they burned you." She shook her head. "We would have given them our aid," she commented. "This is unnecessary."

 

#

 

Khadgar shifted uncomfortably. He found that he was more worried about the fact that he couldn't help Taria if they were to try and hurt her than he was dismayed at his own safety.

 

"I'm not sure their goal was ever to get willing help from us in the first place," he pointed out, but he stopped short of saying more when the door at the top of the stairs creaked open. Three dwarves came in, one Khadgar recognized as the one he'd led to the Orc camp last time they were here. 

 

"You're awake. Good," the dwarf said with an unsettling smile. He stopped in front of Khadgar's chair and clapped his hands together.

 

"Here's how this is going to go, mage," he said, and then he pointed at Taria. "So long as we have her as a pretty, healthy bargaining chip, you're _expendable_. Which means I'm going to ask you questions, and you're going to answer them honestly."

 

"I don't know what you're expecting to hear," Khadgar pointed out. "I've got nothing to hide from you."

 

The dwarf laughed. "The first lie," he said, and then he gestured to one of the dwarves behind him- who promptly picked up a branding iron from beside the fireplace and set it in the fire to heat up.

 

Khadgar's eyes widened.

 

"Let's try again," the dwarf said. "Tell me all about the deal you made with the orcs. We aren't fooled by your 'tale of victory'. I want to hear about the bargain you obviously made to give them the northern lands if they leave you and yours be."

 

#

 

Anduin got through a recount of what Varian had told him as his lieutenant gathered a squadron of soldiers to accompany them west.

 

He was holding it together, but barely. He didn't know how much of the panic he was feeling was showing, but he sincerely hoped not a lot. He was still commander, still regent, and the biggest tests would always be personal threats like these. 

 

"We can't fight them head on," he said tightly. "They only need one of them alive to have a hold over us. Dion, Thelae. I need you to come with me to infiltrate their stronghold and find out where they're keeping them. We extract Khadgar and the Queen first. Then we go to the Wildhammers. They will join us if we decide to take on the Dark Irons."

 

His hands were shaking by his sides. The Dark Irons had him by his very soul.

 

#

 

Thelae frowned. "Are you sure that's wise? If a small group of us get cornered in that mountain, all could be lost," she said, but Dion shook his head.

 

"Leaving them in there for any length of time isn't an option. We can't be left in the grips of a hostage situation," he said, firmly on board with Anduin's plan, despite the fact that Taria would be vehemently objecting.

 

Thelae looked firm, but she nodded. "The Guardian has saved myself and my people more than once. You have my bow if it will save his life and that of your queen."

 

\-----------

 

Khadgar looked up at his captor incredulously. "That's ridiculous. We don't make deals with demons, or orcs," he snapped.

 

"If it would save your lands and get rid of a nuisance to your north, I imagine you would," the dwarf snapped. "You may have them fooled, mage, but I know your kind. A silver tongue and a wicked mind. I suppose it helps if you lie with their king."

 

Khadgar glared, his eyes flashing blue, then flickering outage the bindings held his powers at bay. "You have _no idea_ what you speak of."

 

The dwarf turned and grabbed the hot branding iron, and before Khadgar could even brace himself, the red-hot metal was searing through the cloth and flesh of his left shoulder. 

 

He _screamed_.

 

#

 

Taria let out a gasp, but she was too much a Queen to do more than that. "Khadgar, the Guardian you are torturing, saved this very world," she said, her voice steely. "Our lands have not been spared. We fight a constant battle at Sentinel Hill, and in the Redridge Mountains. It is plain to see we have made no deal with the Orcs."

 

#

 

"You ally with the Kirin Tor and their mages! You ally with the Wildhammer! I doubt your judgement, _your highness_ ," the dwarf said with a mocking tone. Khadgar was slumped in his bonds, his jaw clenched as he breathed harshly against the vicious pain.

 

"W-We didn't have to be enemies," he choked out, looking up at the dwarf with eyes bright with pain. "We have no advantage t-to aligning ourselves with the fel."

 

"You're going to make this very difficult, aren't you?" the dwarf muttered, setting the branding iron back in the fire. Khadgar wanted to sob, wanted to plead with him no to do it again-

 

But he couldn't look that weak. Not to them, not when they had Taria sitting feet away. He needed to be strong so she would have some hope. 

 

"I'll ask again, mage; tell me about the deal you made with the orcs," the dwarf said, and Khadgar glared stubbornly.

 

" _There is no deal._ "

 

_Please, Anduin, find us._

 

#

 

"If we do not come out by nightfall, I need you to send two soldiers in," Anduin instructed his lieutenant when they reached the Burning Steppes. "And if they do not return within the hour, you are to declare war on the Dark Irons. Explain your case to the Wildhammers in the north. We cannot spread our forces thinner. They are still needed against the Orcs."

 

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant said, looking extremely unhappy. Thelae, for that matter, also looked deeply upset with their plans, but she still went along with them. 

 

Thelae, Dion, and he made their way to the back of the stronghold, scouting for ways in. They finally found it by way of a sewer. Groaning to himself, they made an extremely messy entrance, but it was worth it as they weren't seen.

 

#

 

By the time Anduin and the others arrived at the Burning Steppes, two more branding irons had been taken to Khadgar for refusing to admit his nonexistent wrongdoing- both to his left leg. The dwarf was getting downright furious now, standing over the trembling mage red-faced and tense.

 

"Looks like you're tougher without your magic than my men guessed," he growled, and Khadgar wanted to cry, wanted to break down, but he couldn't. He _couldn't_. He dragged desperate breaths in , every movement a new agony, the binding irons feeling like fire on his wrists from how often his powers had tried to flare up.

 

"One last chance before I start going for your eyes, mage; tell me about the deal, and I'll kill you quickly."

 

Khadgar felt ill; it was so tempting to just tell him what he wanted to hear, just to make it stop. 

 

But Taria was counting on him. Anduin, too. He was sure Anduin would come.

 

"Go to hell," he snapped, and he was rewarded with the branding iron pressing against his chest with a sickening sizzle that he barely heard over the wail of agony that left him.

 

Downstairs in the junction between the sewers and the hallways of the mountain fortress, Dion heard the scream and visibly flinched. He felt rage bubble up in him, because he knew who that was- and he was going to help Anduin kill every dwarf responsible. Even Thelae looked slightly sickened at the sound. 

 

#

 

Anduin took off at a sprint,  nauseated by the raw sound of pain in an all-too familiar deep voice.

 

"I'm going to kill them," he hissed to his companions.

 

It took them far too long to find the right room, and when they did, they had to take out three guards and a servant before getting the key off one of them. 

 

They broke into the room, and Thelae's arrow took out one of the torturers while Dion ran to help Khadgar. Anduin engaged the other Dwarf while Thelae searched the first and then the room for the key to Taria's cage. He could only hank the Light she seemed healthy.

 

He couldn't even bear to look at Khadgar fully as he fought, afraid it would turn his stomach to see what they had done to his lover. Finally he got the upper hand on television Dwarf, straddling him with his blade to his throat as the Dark Iron hissed.

 

"Taria, should I kill him?" Anduin bit out, his voice a plea for her to say yes. He quickly tore a glove from the Dwarf"s hand, stuffing it in his mouth as a gag.

 

#

 

Dion rushed to Khadgar's side, trying not to recoil at the smell of burned flesh as he looked for how to get him unbound. 

 

"Khadgar, can you hear me?" he asked, and Khadgar nodded, barely, eyes squeezed shut against the pain. Dion breathed a sigh of relief that Khadgar was alive, and he began searching for the key to his bindings. He found the cell key first, and tossed that to Thelae, who opened the cell immediately.

 

Dion finally spotted the keys to the bindings hanging on the belt of the dwarf Anduin had pinned, and he grabbed them and rushed back to Khadgar, unlocking the cuffs and letting them fall to the floor with a loud _clang_. Khadgar nearly fell forward off the chair, but Dion caught him, and Khadgar sobbed as the man unintentionally touched one of the burns. 

 

Taria walked over to Anduin, her shoulders trembling and her hands clenched into fists. She was a fair leader, a just one; but she was also a mother. A friend. And she'd just watched her brother's lover be tortured for no reason.

 

"According to Stormwind law, he is to be given a trial," she said, her voice low, and shaking. "But we are _not_ in Stormwind."

 

It was the most explicit permission that a queen could give, and Dion actually sighed with relief. Seeing Khadgar like his, he didn't want the young Guardian knowing that one of his torturers still lived.

 

He helped Khadgar to his feet, but the mage was too weak and shaky to stand; Dion lifted the younger man into his arms carefully, trying not to jostle him. All the same, Khadgar was soon drifting in and out of consciousness in his arms.

 

#

 

Anduin gave her a look of pure gratitude.  
  
His hands firmly buried in the Dwarf's hair, Anduin yanked his head back, almost to the point of snapping his neck, He removed the glove but kept it close to his mouth.

"Under whose orders?" Anduin hissed.

The Dwarf grinned at him, his fiery eyes twinkling maliciously. "That's no secret," he said. "Look where you're at."

And official command, then. He wondered if he could trust the Dark Iron. He slashed his throat without a second thought, blood spurting outward from the wound.

His hands were shaking with fury. It wasn't enough. In that moment, he wanted to cut down the entire Dark Iron clan. He forced himself to look at Khadgar. Despite the wave of proprietary protectiveness that surged up from seeing Dion with Khadgar, _his_ Khadgar, in his arms, he forced himself to be practical. He wouldn't be able to get them out safely if he were the one to hold Khadgar.

And he didn't think he would be able to stop himself from murdering the entire Keep if he kept his eyes on the mage.

"Anduin," Taria's voice was clear and firm. "He'll be all right. But we must leave."

He met his sister's eyes with startled clarity. He led the way out of the room, wishing desperately that Khadgar could port the others to safety. But on that mission, at least, his hands were tied.

It was an effort to subdue the guards they came across instead of murdering them in cold blood. This wasn't a battlefield, however, and the Dwarves were merely at their posts. Every time he glanced at Khadgar and was about to lose control, Taria or Thelae were there to stop him with steely grips on his arms.

"We can't let this go without retaliation," he said.

"Not now, Anduin," Taria said tightly. "Come now."

"Perhaps I could-"

"No. Anduin." Taria grabbed his arm. "This is an order from your Queen. We're leaving."

With clenched teeth, he led them out through the sewers.

His men were just about to send two people in, and now that they were outside he felt a rush of relief for his sister's good sense. He would have been sending his subjects to their death over his need for revenge.

Dion, luckily, knew better than to take Khadgar on his own mount, helping Anduin get him situated on his gryphon, cradled as gently as he could in front of him. Anduin wanted to throw up, looking at the charred cloth and smelling burned skin. Thelae took Taria on her own mount.

"Khadgar?" He asked, his voice broken, as they took off to the skies.

 

#

 

Khadgar would have been unconscious by then, for sure, but every time he was shifted by Dion another fresh wave of pain went through his whole body. When Dion handed him over to someone else, though, he tried to open his eyes.

 

"Anduin...?" he murmured as he felt the familiar shift of a gryphon taking off beneath him. 

 

He knew Anduin would come. He knew it. He leaned into Anduin's hold more, though even that small movement took a toll in pain.

 

"It hurts," he said, his voice wrecked, the words broken. He wasn't a Guardian right now, like he'd been forcing himself to be for the past few hours; he was a terrified young mage, in more pain than he could ever remember being in. 

 

Thelae made sure Taria was settled before she urged her gryphon into the skies, and she gave the queen a concerned look. She seemed physically fine- but any soldier knew that what she's been through was dangerously traumatizing. "Are you alright, your highness?" she asked softly. 

 

#

 

"I wish I could fix that for you," Anduin said, his voice grim. "Hang on, Khadgar. I'm flying as fast as we possibly can to get you help."

The hand not around Khadgar was clenched in a death grip on the pommel of the saddle. "There's a mixture of briarthorn and bruiseweed in my satchel, if you can reach it," he said. "Rub it where you can. It will help a little with the healing and with the pain. If you can't reach, try to hold on and I'll get it for you."

Their morning had started out so pleasantly. Of all the ways he'd thought this day was going to go, rescuing Khadgar from torture was not even on the list.

The other problem, the larger problem, was that the Dark Irons had taken Stormwind's Queen and the Guardian himself from inside the castle. How they had made it past all the soldiers and guards to an inner room, where the Queen and her children were, was incomprehensible to Anduin.

He wasn't going to worry Khadgar with suggestions of a spy, not yet, not while he was hurting and afraid.

"Varian and Adariall are safe thanks to you," he murmured. He looked back at Thelae and Taria, lagging behind his swift gryphon. They seemed to be talking, but Taria, from what he could see when he squinted, seemed whole, at least.

"I'll wait to ask you what they were after until you're not in so much pain," Anduin said to Khadgar. "Can't do anything about it right now anyway."

  
__

Meanwhile, Taria smiled at Thelae. "Thank you, Thelae. We aren't even your people and you risked your life for us. You are a true friend to Stormwind."

Taria's smile fell away a moment later, though, and her hands were trembling from where they held on. Her eyes contained tears. "They did nothing to me," she confessed. "But he's so young, Thelae. And they tortured him. He told the truth and they wouldn't believe him. It wasn't answers they wanted, but an excuse."

 

 

#

 

Khadgar was glad to hear that Varian and Adariall were safe; he'd done his best to protect all three of the people in that room with him, and though he'd failed Taria, he knew she would have wanted him to focus on getting the kids to safety first. 

 

And at least they hadn't hurt Taria; though he would have preferred she didn't have to be witness to what happened. 

 

He couldn't even dream of moving for any reason; every tiny shift brought a new wave of pain intense enough to almost make him ill. Sitting still, though, the pain was a dull roar, not sharp enough to keep him conscious when all he wanted to do was give in to unconsciousness and stop suffering, just for a while.

 

"Knew you'd c-come," he said, the words coming out slurred and weak, his body trembling. Moments later, he slumped against Anduin, finally unable to stay awake any longer.

 

\------

 

Thelae's eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips in thought. "We already know they have no love for mages," she said darkly, wondering just what the two of them had been through back in that dungeon. 

 

She remembered when she would have been understanding of their fear. Now, looking at what they'd done to Khadgar, she felt nothing but rage.

 

"He'll be alright," she reassured the queen and herself, her gryphon having to really work to keep up with Anduin's. It seemed even Anduin's gryphon felt the urgency of the situation. "He's a strong young man. He'll recover quickly, I'm sure of it."

 

#

 

They arrived at Stormwind far too many hours later for Anduin's liking, and he didn't bother handing off the reins of his gryphon at the doors of the Cathedral of Light.

There was one young, obviously inexperienced priest who said in disbelief, "Again?" before being reprimanded sharply by his superiors.

Two healers fell in step beside Anduin as he made his way to the now-too-familiar healing rooms. "The Dark Irons kidnapped him and tortured him," Anduin said, his voice gravelly with concern. "They branded him. His wrists were bound in magic-suppressing manacles..."

His voice broke. He hated that he was powerless. He hated that Khadgar, Khadgar who had held him that same morning and said he loved him was now broken and hurting. Khadgar who had been whole and perfect. Khadgar who had just gotten his magic back. Khadgar who had made _him_ whole again.

One of the healers touched his elbow. "We'll help him," she said, her voice sympathetic.

Taria and Thelae came running in a moment later, followed by Dion. Anduin clutched Taria to him.

"I was so afraid I'd lost you," he said to her.

He kept saying those words. He _hated_ those words.

She had been the one who had been kidnapped, and yet she was the one murmuring to him that it would be all right.

 

#

 

The healers worked for nearly an hour, switching off when each one had exhausted their ability to heal more. When they'd done what they could, one of the exhausted healers came out to where Anduin and the others were waiting.

 

"We could heal most of the damage, but the burns on his wrists are beyond our capabilities," she said with genuine regret in her voice. "There will be scarring, and he will be weak for a few days."

 

Dion sighed with relief. While it wasn't ideal that his wrists would have to heal the hard way, and there was sure to be more than _physical_ scarring, at least Khadgar was alive and on the mend.

 

"You can go see him now. He's in the room at the end of the hall," the healer added with a gesture toward one of the few private rooms here.

 

Dion nodded to Anduin. "Go ahead. I'll start the necessary reports; you stay with Khadgar," he offered. 

 

#

 

Anduin actually hugged Dion at that. "Taria," he said when he released the flustered guard, "Will you be all right?"

"Go, go," she said. "Later."

He nodded and ran into the room where Khadgar lay. The mage was visibly shaken from his ordeal. Anduin sat on the edge of the bed, forgoing the chair, and smoothed his palm over Khadgar's forehead soothingly.

Now that he was there, with him, he didn't know what to say. He could tell him it would be all right, but he didn't want to be patronizing; he could tell him he loved him, but he knew that; he could say he wanted to declare war on the Dark Irons, and while that wasn't out of the question, he didn't want to worry Khadgar when he was weak.

"I'm sorry this happened to you," he finally settled on, his voice thick.

He took Khadgar's hand in his own and stared at his wrists, horrified by what he saw.

 

#

 

Khadgar had been drifting in and out of consciousness as the healers worked, and eventually the pain ebbed to a dull throb throughout his body- except for his wrists. Those still burned like the cuffs were still on. 

 

He heard the healers leave and someone else enter, somewhere in the fog of half-consciousness; when he heard Anduin's voice, though, he fought to open his eyes. 

 

"S'okay," he mumbled, obviously kind of out of it still. He squeezed Anduin's hand as best he could. "Is...Taria okay?" 

 

He didn't remember much of getting rescued or getting out- he was pretty sure she'd been okay. Physically, at least.

 

If he concentrated on her, though, he could ignore the fact that he was pretty far from okay.

 

#

 

"Yes, she's fine. Upset, but unharmed," Anduin confirmed. "I'll be checking on her later."

 

Anduin bent over his knees, holding Khadgar's hand to his forehead. He wanted to annihilate the entire damn race of Dark Irons. He was tired of thinking in terms of 'kingdom' and 'regent'. He wanted to not have to worry about alliances and the larger picture and for once just focus on the retaliation at hand. He _wanted,_ Light help him, to let the Orcs take the Dark Iron's land, and he hated that the invasion still posed the greater threat to Azeroth. He _hated_  the knowledge that despite this, they might need to still fight on the same side against the fel, and the Horde.

 

He wanted to fire the entire Stormwind Castle guard, but he needed to keep them close to his chest, for now - sending them loose would only mean they'd never find out how the Dark Irons had infiltrated their castle. 

 

He also wanted to yell at Khadgar for not taking a guard with him. How many time did he even need to ask the damned bookworm to do that? How many times did he have to be attacked before he started taking Anduin seriously?

 

He wouldn't, though, Anduin knew that. He barely kept Dion by his side, and he _doted_  on the guard. 

 

#

 

Khadgar wanted to reassure Anduin, but he wasn't sure what he could say to make this seem any better. His head hurt, the healing burns still ached, and it was hard to stay awake right now when his head was still in a fog; but all the same, he rubbed his thumb gently over the back of Anduin's hand.

 

"They wanted me t-to admit we'd created an alliance with the orcs," he said, figuring that Anduin would need to know this, need to know the reasons behind the torture, however ridiculous those reasons were. "Said we'd obviously offered the orcs their l-land if they got rid of the dwarves there."

 

He remembered telling the dwarf that the idea was ridiculous- and a shiver went through him as he remembered what came after.

 

"I tried to convince them we d-didn't have a deal with the orcs," he said, his voice shaky now. "They...didn't believe me. Obviously."

 

But he hadn't given in. He was proud of himself for that, and for saving the kids, if nothing else. He felt like for once he'd made exactly the right decisions in an awful situation- and he knew Taria would appreciate his efforts, at least, to keep her uninvolved. 

#

 

Anduin laughed, darkly. "I wonder if they've heard of the self-fulfilling prophecy," he said. "It almost seems like an option. I had looked to them to be our allies, and they've hurt you, kept both of us in a cage, and kidnapped our Queen. If they think we're their enemies, well; they've gotten their wish."

 

Anduin's hand clenched Khadgar's tighter for a moment. In an angry whisper, he continued, "But we cannot let the Burning Steppes fall to the Orcs."

 

He looked over at Khadgar but did not straighten, as if his shoulders were too heavy. "I plan to go to the Wildhammers in the North and ask for their aid to come help us drive back the Orcs. They will not like it, but they will agree for what I am offering; we will join their fight against the Dark Irons once the foreign Horde threat is subdued."

 

He pressed his face into their hands again. "Even our own land is falling apart."

 

#

 

Khadgar hated seeing Anduin like this. It was like a part of himself was breaking when Anduin was this upset; he wanted nothing more than to hug him right now, but he was too tired even to sit up. And everything still _hurt_.

 

"Not falling apart. Not yet," Khadgar pointed out stubbornly, taking his hand out of Anduin's grip to run his fingers gently through the man's hair. "Not if we can help it. Weren't you t-the one telling me not to lose hope?"

 

After all, it wasn't long ago that Khadgar was despairing that all was lost, and Anduin had brought him back from the brink. And while Khadgar was beaten and burned, he had to do the same for Anduin, give him that same hope.

 

"We know who our true allies are now. We know...what we're up against," he added, stopping mid-sentence with a wince of pain. "We can still do this."

 

It was a bold statement, considering they were up against the dwarves in the north, the orcs in the south, and the fel rifts that would soon begin to open. But he _believed_ it. They'd been through so much; they couldn't fail now. 

 

#

 

Anduin leaned into Khadgar's touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a heartbeat before he straightened. He shouldn't be asking Khadgar to think of these things now, even if there was nothing else on his own mind.

 

"What can I do for you?" Anduin asked, looking at Khadgar with pleading eyes. He wanted to be able to help. He heard the pain in Khadgar's stuttering voice and it tore at his chest. "What can I get you?"

 

#

 

Khadgar almost laughed; it was just like Anduin to flip things around like that, worry about Khadgar instead of himself.

 

Granted, he was kind of justified this time, given Khadgar's current condition.

 

"Just tired," Khadgar said softly. He was kind of afraid to sleep, though- afraid that this was just a dream, and he would wake up strapped back in that chair.

 

"...stay with me?" he asked, almost too quiet to be heard.

 

He didn't want to be alone right now. 

 

#

 

Anduin rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "And where do you think I'd be going?"

 

He removed his armor but kept his boots on. Then he squeezed himself onto the edge of the bed beside Khadgar, trying not to make too much contact lest he hurt his injuries. The day was more than spent, and he would rather be uncomfortable than sleep anywhere but by Khadgar's side.

 

He turned his head to face the mage, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He felt like if he said anything he was feeling, he might lose his tenuous grasp on his self-control and cry for the second time in a day.

 

Drawing in a steadying breath, he closed his eyes before that could happen.

 

#

 

Ignoring the pain that came along with moving, Khadgar immediately moved to be as close to Anduin as possible. He didn't care if it hurt a little more; he needed the contact.

 

He almost immediately fell asleep, and luckily, he was so tired from the day's events that he slept too deeply to even dream, let alone have nightmares. When he woke, it was to a healer gently touching his uninjured shoulder- and to a sharp, throbbing pain in both wrists and a dull pain in the areas that had been burned. 

 

It took a moment for everything to come flooding back, and when it did, he wished he was still asleep. 

 

"We need to apply the medication to your wounds again, Guardian," she said softly, and Khadgar nodded, carefully extricated himself from Anduin's grip, and slowly sat up, choking back a cry of pain as he put weight on one of his wrists to push himself up. So much for not waking Anduin.

 

#  


Anduin was so deeply in sleep that when he felt the bed shift, he thought nothing of it, but he shot straight up at Khadgar's cry of pain. He needed a moment to orient himself, and when he focused on the healer and noticed Khadgar trying to brace himself on injured wrists he immediately got an arm under the mage to support him.

 

His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. 

 

It was going to be extremely, _extremely_  hard not to focus Stormwind's might on the Dark Irons, abandoning their allies and the war against the Horde. 

 

Though Khadgar was fully adult, there were times like this where his youth was starkly , heartbreakingly apparent. The type of person to torture someone like him was no more than a monster.

 

#  


"I'm alright," Khadgar insisted, though he didn't rebuff the help offered. He leaned on Anduin as the healer began to gently apply the liferoot oil to the burns, and he let out a breath of relief as it eased at least some of the pain.

 

"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you," he said, still only looking about half awake, his hair messy from sleep. 

 

"Do the other burns still hurt?" the healer asked, and Khadger shook his head.

 

"Only a little."

 

"They were deep," the healer said, but then she gave him an encouraging smile. "It may take time, but they will heal fully."

 

Khadgar nodded, and she finished on his other wrist and gathered her things to leave. 

 

#

 

 

"Don't apologize to me," Anduin said gruffly, his voice still hoarse from sleep. "Thank you," he added to the healer in a gentler, sincere voice. 

 

The healer looked startled to be spoken to by the regent at all. She blushed and gave a quick bow before hastening out of the room. 

 

Anduin sighed and looked a little despondently at Khadgar's wrists. He wanted to say, 'at least they'll heal,' but it sounded hollow even before it was spoken aloud. Khadgar would still remember what had been done to him, and still bear the scars. 

 

#

 

Khadgar caught the look that Anduin was giving his wrists, and he tried for a smile. "They'll heal. It's not that bad, with the liferoot," he fibbed. It really hurt with the liferoot; it really, _really_ hurt without it. 

 

But it was nothing compared to the burns last night before the healers healed them. He remembered nearly screaming when they had to remove the cloth that had been seared to the skin on his shoulder, chest, and leg. 

 

His left leg still ached and felt weak; he almost didn't want to try walking, since it might end poorly.

 

"Thank you for staying," he said, leaning in to give Anduin a brief kiss. 

 

#

 

Anduin wanted to protest the thanks again, but he was just glad that Khadgar was happy that he was there with him. He kissed him back, then kissed his fingers - the only parts of Khadgar he was relatively sure weren't injured. 

 

"Do you need anything?" He asked gently, stroking the side of Khadgar's face. 

 

#  


Khadgar definitely wasn't going to object. After yesterday, any touch that didn't hurt was perfect and wonderful. 

 

"I...don't think so," he said, though he didn't sound sure- there was water on the bedside table, and though he was kind of hungry, his stomach seemed to turn at the thought of food. 

 

"You don't have to stay here with me," he added reluctantly after a moment, though the way he intertwined their fingers as he said it seemed to contradict his words. "I know you probably have a lot of official stuff to take care of after...after that."

 

He didn't want Anduin to leave; but he also understood that he was the acting king, and the queen was likely not going to be able to handle much today. He didn't want Anduin to feel tied down here because Khadgar was hurt.

 

He shifted closer to Anduin and flinched, his free hand rubbing at his left leg to ease the sudden, brief pain there. 

 

#

 

Anduin scowled. "Can't you let me very selfish for a few hours?" He asked. "Or do you want me to leave? Just say so and I can come back later."

 

He deflated a moment later, knowing there was some truth to Khadgar's nagging. 

 

"I can write my reports well enough here in bed with you, along with any decrees and suggestions," he said. His mouth twitched, though. "I think you forget I'm not just a commander any more. These reports will mainly be for posterity, and mine and Taria's sake. There's no committee that my decisions need to pass, bookworm. Though I will of course ask for the input of my second-in-command, and a war tribunal for the Dark Irons." Anduin shook his head. "Advisable, but not required."

 

He got up with a sigh, and made a few requests for supplies from the guard standing outside.

 

He turned back to Khadgar,  pausing by the door. "So which is it? Should I leave so you can rest?" 

 

#  


Khadgar sighed. "I don't _want_ you to leave. I was just saying I understand if you _have_ to," he said as he leaned back against the headboard of the bed. 

 

He tugged up his pants leg on his left leg and winced at the sight of the scars there- the healer said they would stop hurting after a day or so, and that the scars would fade, but that didn't make it any easier to see.

 

"I'm tired of resting," he muttered, and then held up a hand before Anduin could speak. "I know, I know. Bed rest. Honestly...I don't know how much weight this leg would hold yet anyway."

 

#  


"We can have books brought for you," Anduin said, coming back over to the bed. He frowned heavily at the marks he saw on Khadgar's skin. "Possibly if you could stay out of trouble for more than a day, you could also stay away from bed rest as well."

 

He gave Khadgar a smile to soften his words.

 

"Move over," he said, settling back down beside him. "And it's only because you're so Light-forsakenly young that you don't appreciate being ordered to sleep."

 

#

 

"Could say the same for you," Khadgar said with a smirk. It wasn't like he was the only one who had issues with staying out of trouble.

 

"And I'm not _that_ young. I'm almost 21, you know," he pointed out, remembering the kids' insistence on him having a birthday party. His expression turned to a frown as he looked up at Anduin.

 

"Are the kids alright? I kept them safe as best I could, but...that still can't have been easy for them to deal with," he said softly. He felt bad, still, for not being able to save their mother from that as well. 

 

#  


"Right, kid," Anduin laughed.  "Let's not talk about it a lot, but I'm twice your age."

 

He smiled. "Varian and Adariall are fine, thanks to you. Varian told me you put up a frost wall. It's good we got you back your voice when we do. I hate to think what would have happened otherwise. And thank you," he added earnestly, "For looking out for them, and Taria."

 

A knock came on the door, and a servant came in with parchment, quills and a breakfast tray. Anduin thanked the girl and bit into a scone, setting the tray on his legs for Khadgar to graze off of.

 

#

 

Honestly, Khadgar hadn't thought about the age difference a lot, and it didn't bother him- really, he'd worried more at first that Anduin would have no interest being with someone so much younger. Obviously, that was an unneeded bit of anxiety.

 

"Yeah. I put up the frost wall, but if I put Taria behind it too, the dwarves wouldn't have been cut off from Varian and Adariall," he explained with a shrug- or at least, half a shrug, since he stopped halfway into the motion with a wince. "I tried to get Taria to safety too, but it just...there was no way I could. Not without risking the kids."

 

They had been so spread out, he was surprised he managed to protect them as well as he did for as long as he did. He couldn't have used one of his bigger spells without risking hurting them, and his attention had been split three ways. He hesitantly picked up a slice of bread and nibbled at it, figuring that it would be safest to start with.

 

#  


He should probably stop worrying about stressing Khadgar out, Anduin reflected - the Guardian's mind was always active, hurt or not, tired or not, busy or not. He tapped his quill on the paper and sighed. He might as well give his active mind something to think about.

 

"My concern is how they got into the castle with so many of our guards," Anduin said. "I know you didn't take any with you," he gave him a pointed look, "But surely Taria and the children had them guarding whatever room you found them in. How did they make their way through our halls? How did they make their way into _Stormwind?_ "

 

Anduin was almost bending the writing utensil in half. He forced himself to relax his grip. He was paranoid by nature, and the attacks on all fronts was effectively fraying the small amount of nerves he had remaining to him. 

 

"We can't interrogate them or they'll learn to be more careful," he added. 

 

#

 

"I shouldn't need a guard to walk from one room to another in the castle itself," Khadgar pointed out glumly, because he'd been thinking the same thing as Anduin- that something wasn't quite right there. "There were two guards outside the library when I went in, but...I didn't see any in the hall when the Dark Irons opened the door."

 

He thought it over with a frown, taking a bigger bite of the bread now that he knew his stomach wouldn't rebel against it. "They made their move while Dion was out of commission. And Thelae with him. I don't think that's coincidence," he pointed out, suddenly feeling bad that Dion had come to save him while he was probably still recovering. "I have the feeling that whoever is helping them- because someone _is_ \- is high ranking enough to know that the castle guard would be weakened without two of its strongest fighters on duty."

 

That narrowed it down somewhat, but not a ton. The castle guard were the best of the best, a tight knit group. Khadgar suddenly paused, and then looked at Anduin with determination.

 

"Can you have their records brought here, by someone we know we can trust?" he asked. "You have to have records of everyone who works in the castle guard. Their families, history, training, that kind of thing. Can we have Dion bring that here?"

 

This was actually somewhat fortuitous- this was the perfect place to do this research. No one would be interrupting them here, while Khadgar was recovering.

 

#  


Anduin smiled at him, pleased to see Khadgar distracted and upbeat again. He went and did as he was asked, sending a servant to tell Taria of Khadgar's requests. 

 

He was also happy to see Khadgar eating, it showed his health was improving that much already. With a surge of affection for him he kissed Khadgar's head. 

 

"I would be so alone without you here," Anduin said.

 

It came out just that shade of too-honest - he had meant to say perhaps "lost" or "overwhelmed" or something more generic - but it was true, and it wasn't something he could take back now that he'd said it, so he simply kissed Khadgar again and set to work on the reports.

 

#  


Khadgar returned the kiss and then let Anduin get to work, leaning on him and occasionally glancing over a report out of boredom until Dion got there with the requested documents. It took another five minutes to convince Dion that yes, Khadgar really was alright, and that the healers had done the best they could.

 

When Dion left, Khadgar separated the  files into stacks and set to work, having to be careful moving his hands so much- every movement of his wrists made the pain that much worse. But he felt better with something to focus on.

 

The healer thought differently. She came in to the sight of both Anduin and Khadgar on the bed, surrounded by documents, and she threw her hands in the air.

 

"Bed rest! Bed _rest_ , not bed _work_!" she exclaimed. "I give up!"

 

She turned and stalked from the room, and Khadgar gave Anduin a sheepish smile. "Whoops."

 

#

 

Anduin gave him a satisfied smile. "Notice I've given up," he said. "I'm just happy you're in bed."

 

He made stacks across the bed - one for his lieutenant to look over and give recommendations, one for Taria to verify and add her accounts and opinions, and another that he needed to organize later and get approved with regard to sending an envoy to give the Wildhammers notice he would be requesting an audience soon. The last stack was a list of growing offenses committed against Stormwind by the Dark Irons. That one he added to in between writing the rest. It would both be used in the trial of the representatives still being held, as well as to convince the Wildhammers - and any other allies they could gather - of the justness of the potential war against them.

 

There came another knock on the door, and in came Taria with Varian and Adariall. Taria had stress lines at the corner of her eyes, but otherwise seemed composed, and pleased to see them.

 

"We couldn't wait to see how you were doing," she said. "And since you were asking for work, I didn't think you would mind visitors."

 

#  


Khadgar smiled brightly when he saw the two kids come into the room, safe and sound. He couldn't help having been worried about them; that fight was a lot for a kid to go through. "Hey you two," he said, trying to sound cheerful even though it was hard to keep the tiredness out of his voice. His mind may be awake and ready to work, but his body was still recovering from the torture.

 

He suddenly realized that the burns on his wrists and part of the burn on his chest were in plain view, and he didn't know how much Taria had told them about what happened. He tugged the neckline of his shirt of a bit, but the wrists couldn't be helped.

 

"I heard you ran straight to get help after the fight. You did a good job," he praised them seriously- the fact that they'd been so quick in getting to Anduin meant less that he'd had to go through in that dungeon.

 

Judging by the dwarf's comments about going for the eyes next, another hour of it and he may have been coming back blinded.

 

#

 

The children beamed under Khadgar's praise. 

 

"Mother said we couldn't hug you. Are those why?" Adariall pointed to the marks on Khadgar's skin.

 

Anduin and Taria exchanged a look. They were going to be Princess and King, and those titles came with the understanding of war and torture. He wanted to protect them, but Taria had always been the more pragmatic of the two.

 

"He was injured when we were captured," Taria said. "Remember what I told you? Bad people took us. But Khadgar was very brave, and now he's getting better."

 

Anduin held out his arm instead. "Thank you for your bravery, too," he said. His niece and nephew ran to him, both giving him hugs with curious glances at Khadgar. They were still nervous around the mage, but Anduin saw it falling away every time they were together. "You served Stormwind well, my liege and lady."

 

They preened, while Taria gave him an affectionate smile. 

 

#

 

Well, Taria handled that a whole lot more gracefully than Khadgar could have. Probably from years of experience- both in raising the children, and smoothing things over diplomatically.

 

Khadgar remembered how Llane was able sound like the voice of reason every time he was around; a calm, steady presence that inspired confidence. Taria had the same qualities, albeit with a more...maternal leaning.

 

"I'll get better in no time, and we'll get back to what we were planning before, alright?" Khadgar said to the young royals with a conspiratorial wink and a smile thrown in Taria's direction. Nothing like talk of a secret party to get the kids' minds back on more pleasant things than the fact that their Guardian looked like he'd been put through a gauntlet.

 

#

 

It worked like a charm. Both children immediately relaxed, giggling and exchanging looks, while Taria sent Khadgar a light glare. 

 

Anduin frowned, looking between the four of them. He tried to decide if he really wanted to know. 

 

It was, he reflected, somewhat suspicious that they had all been in the same place when the Dark Irons came to kidnap them.

 

Whatever it was, he knew it would crush his niece and nephew's hearts to have a secret taken from them, especially one that was making them distracted and happy. 

 

#

 

Khadgar grinned impishly at the glare from Taria- it was funny, because a few weeks ago that glare would have had him terrified. But now...

 

...well, it felt like they'd grown closer over the past couple of weeks. She was still his queen, but she was also undoubtedly his friend as well.

 

"Well, let's leave them alone to rest," Taria said, herding the children back toward the door. "Don't work too hard, you two. I mean it," she added.

 

Khadgar assured her that they wouldn't push themselves too hard- she probably didn't believe him, but that couldn't be helped, given his work ethic. As soon as they were out the door he looked back down at the new file he'd opened- and something caught his eye.

 

"Anduin," he said, tugging Anduin's sleeve and ignoring the resulting stab of pain in his wrist. "I may have something here."

 

#

 

Anduin watched his family leave with a bemused expression on his face,  but sobered at Khadgar's words.

 

"What is it?"

 

Noticing Khadgar's reflexive wince, he kissed Khadgar's cheek in apology.

 

#

 

Khadgar spread the papers from the file out over the blankets. "Ryse Harper. Worked infantry for three years, been castle guard for four. But look at the past few months," he said, pointing to one of the pages. "Brother, Gregory Harper, killed in combat. This was when you first attacked the orc camp in the Burning Steppes. And here- sister, Alexandra Harper, killed in combat; the battle when we defeated Gul'dan. And right after that, a disciplinary note in his record from his squadron captain that notes he was 'drunkenly belligerent' and 'disparaging and threatening of the king'. They gave him a warning because of his recent losses."

 

It made sense, as much as Khadgar didn't want it to- this guard had lost his brother and his sister in the past few months, both to battles that Anduin led. And then he's discovered drunkenly 'threatening and disparaging' the acting king? 

 

It was the actions of a man who held his king responsible for losing his family. Logic would say that there are losses in any battle, no matter how good of a king you are.

 

But grief didn't align itself with logic. Khadgar knew that all too well.

 

"If anyone has the motivation and the opportunity to hurt your family, Anduin...it's someone like this," he pointed out, though his voice was thick with regret- because he could understand how grief would twist itself into this. If it was true, he felt more sorry than angry at the young man.

 

#

 

A muscle clenched in Anduin's jaw, but he smiled at Khadgar and squeezed a part of his shoulder he knew to be uninjured.

"Good work," he said.

He gathered up the neat stacks of papers on the blanket into one jumbled pile with deliberate slowness, leaving one. "Take a look at this, would you, and add your account. I'll take it to Taria next."

Everything Khadgar had found made perfect sense, and he had no doubt that the clever mage was entirely accurate in his assessment.

Anduin had ordered men and women to their deaths for years, but this was exactly what he had been afraid of when Khadgar had resurrected him. He knew Khadgar had some hand in his life, that it wasn't entirely Elune, but to anyone else who had suffered loss it would be intolerable to stomach. Ryse Harper might be the threat now, but he wouldn't be the only one.

The problem was, Anduin couldn't argue with his motivations. They were just. He had every right to be furious at Anduin.

But attacking his family, Khadgar, and Taria, and the young royal children, was out of the question. He wanted Anduin to suffer as he had suffered, that was of course clear. And what the soldier didn't think about was that Anduin had. But that made made no difference to someone bereaved, Anduin knew that from personal experience.

"I think you're right," he said casually. "There is too much that needs taking care of today for me to stay. I'm sorry, Khadgar. I will be back today when I can to check on you, and gather the reports for Taria."

He nodded at the mage and left.

Once outside, he lost his smile, and the expression on his face made the healers exchange worried, obvious glances with one another.

 

 

 

 


	14. Installment 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A traitor is dealt with and an old friend returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're coming up on the end! There will be one more chapter after this.
> 
> Thank you everyone who's read along with this monster for the past year, and especially to those who have commented!

Khadgar gave Anduin a worried look as he left; he'd been worried that this would be a big hit to him. He knew Anduin cared for his soldiers deeply, every one of them, and having one turn on him in this way had to be excruciating. 

 

He understood that Anduin had a lot to do, but he couldn't help but feel that much colder without him there. 

 

He went through the reports and reluctantly added his own account, though more than once he had to take a break and just...stop thinking about it. It was too much at times, and eventually he just got too tired to handle it, and slipped back into sleep.

 

This time, the nightmares came. Nightmares of being strapped down in that chair again, the sizzle of the brand, the smell of burning flesh, and the _pain_. 

 

Outside of the nightmare he thrashed and pleaded; one of the healers took hold of him to try and wake him, and was rewarded with nearly taking a frostbolt to the face–the shard of ice slammed into the far wall, the stone cracking at the impact as the healer stumbled back from Khadgar.

 

#

 

Meanwhile, Anduin went to a guard he'd known for years and trusted, a man named Oran Stoneshield. He asked him to find out what Ryse's schedule was and what inns he went to and when. Then he asked about his family.

 

A mother and father, both deceased, who had had a farm in Westfall. A younger brother, Ulian, who lived with him there on the outskirts of Stormwind and sold their produce in the city. Eight years old. So there was the man's motivation, and why he hadn't tried to attack Anduin or his family outright. He still had something to live for.

 

Unfortunately for Ryse, now that Anduin knew he was a threat, he couldn't leave him unsupervised to continue his daily duties, and he certainly didn't trust anyone else with his family's lives. No one had protected them adequately before, and he wasn't taking that chance again. He sent Oran to guard Taria, and then went to find Ryse himself.

 

Of course, that didn't mean confronting the guard while he was on duty. It was too public, and it would force his hand regarding justice. That wouldn't solve his problem of his hatred toward him, and it wouldn't bring back the dead or assuage Anduin's guilt. Instead Anduin did what he did best–he got underfoot, and he got under his skin.

 

When the guard made the rounds of the lower halls and kitchens where he was stationed, Anduin made sure to be talking to the cook about dinner. When he went to change places with the guard at the library, Anduin made sure to be shelving books. He could see the man becoming stiffer and stiffer, his hand grasping at his spear like he would run Anduin through right there and then if he could.

 

But, he had to think of his little brother. And Anduin knew that.

 

When, midday, someone came to find Anduin and told him there had been a commotion at the Cathedral regarding Khadgar, his heart clenched, but this guard was the whole reason Khadgar was injured in the first place.

 

That wasn't even true, he corrected himself.

 

 _Anduin_ _Lothar_ was the reason Khadgar was suffering. And he had to make this as right as he could.

 

He sent the guard to find Taria to get her to go to the Cathedral to see Khadgar. She was the second best thing to himself, he reasoned.

 

Of course, he hadn't planned on that triggering warning bells in his sister. Just as he was meant to follow the guard on his break into the city, Thelae showed up, with an eyebrow raised.

 

Knowing he couldn't tell her to go away without alerting Ryse to what he was doing, he gripped her elbow and forced her to come with him, trailing Ryse into Oldtown.

 

"What are we doing?" She said in a discreet but sharp whisper.

 

"Go back to the castle," he hissed back at her.

 

Her chin set. That was not a problem he had banked on. "You're too noticeable," he said. " _Please."_

 

The Night Elf actually rolled her eyes at him, a blink of light above pretty cheekbones, and he knew exactly which guard had taught her _that_ human expression. She broke away from him, moved farther back, began disguising her form when she could with shop carts and shadows.

 

He had forgotten that her kind could so easily blend in to their environment. At times, even he couldn't tell she was there.

 

#

 

By the time Taria got to the Cathedral, the door to Khadgar's room was frozen shut–literally. As in, a thick sheet of ice over it. Two healers were standing in the hall whispering to each other, and she gave them a frown.

 

"What's happened here?" 

 

One of the healers glanced at the door, looking sheepish. "I tried to wake him up; he was having a nightmare," he explained. "He tried to attack me before he woke. I went to get help and came back, and...well, the door was like this. He won't answer any of us."

 

Khadgar, meanwhile, was sitting against the wall by the bed, shivering from the frost magic hanging thick in the air, his arms wrapped around his knees and his head dropped forward. He hurt all over, his wrists were on fire, but he ignored the pleas of the healers to open the door.

 

He'd almost _killed_ that healer. The man was a few inches from having his head impaled on a spike of ice.

 

A nightmare was no excuse. 

 

He shivered harder and curled up tighter against the cold; he almost preferred the deepening cold to the memory of the Dwarven fire so close.

 

"Khadgar?" a familiar voice called out through the door, and Khadgar shook his head, even though he knew she couldn't see him. "Khadgar, please. Open the door."

 

He couldn't. It wasn't safe. _He_ wasn't safe to them right now. 

 

#

 

"Khadgar," Taria wheedled.

 

Then huffed, quietly, to herself. The mage might be twenty; he might have killed demons and saved their lives; he might be sleeping with her (much older) brother, but this reminded her nothing so much as when one of her children had a tantrum.

 

He was allowed, she supposed, after what he'd been through.

 

"Khadgar, I could order you, as Queen, to let me inside. And then you would be in direct insolence of a royal order. But I'm not going to do that. If you truly want to be alone, if that is how you must heal, then I must respect that. But I am asking you as a friend; please let me in. We were both there. I am feeling alone, and scared, as well."

 

#

 

Oh, well that just wasn't _fair_. Khadgar really just wanted to stay right there alone, keep the door frozen until he was sure he could trust himself, but he couldn't very well lock out his queen. Not when she asked like that. 

 

He reluctantly let the magic holding the door drop away, and the ice on the door cracked and then shattered, falling to the ground in pieces. He probably could have done that a bit more elegantly, but he was in pain, and terrified, and he wanted to go back to sleep but he _couldn't_.

 

Part of him was glad Anduin wasn't here for this; the man had enough of his own problems without dealing with the fact that his Guardian couldn't sleep without worrying about accidentally killing someone.

 

#

 

Taria swept inside, not paying attention to the mess of ice scattered across the floor. With the barest whisper of fabric she knelt and gently took Khadgar in her arms, mindful of his injuries.

 

"There," she said. "We'll wait this out together, then."  
  
–––

 

Anduin and Thelae followed Ryse past the city walls, out onto the grassy banks of Stormwind Lake. Anduin knew there was no way Ryse could have missed him by that point; the man was just waiting until he was sure they were alone.

 

Which was exactly what Anduin wanted, of course.

 

He sidled up to Thelae before she could follow him further.

 

"You may come," he said. "But stay out of it. And stay hidden. I would rather you leave."

 

She didn't go, of course, instead hanging back behind a tree and blending seamlessly into the environment.

 

It made him unhappy, he hadn't wanted a witness for his own sake as much as Ryse's, but there was nothing to be done for it unless he wanted to have endangered his family through annoying the guard as much as he had that day and wasting a day's work.

 

Anduin quickened his pace–the man was keeping by the walls, out of sight, and just when he caught up to him Ryse turned on his heel in a clank of armor and threw himself at Anduin.

 

"You must be stupid," Ryse barked. His voice was full of pain. The guard tore off his helmet. "You've obviously figured it out. Why are you following me by yourself?"

 

Anduin let himself be shoved against the wall, and he let himself be hit by a dexterous right hook to his face. His head cracked against the stone. Ryse followed it up with two more punches to his torso. He made no move to defend himself.

 

"I lost a son," he said.

 

"Yeah, we all know," Ryse said, his face purpling and his eyes wet. He drew back his hand again.

 

"I lost my wife to childbirth," Anduin continued.

 

"You killed my brother!" Ryse screamed. "You killed my sister! And then I saw you! You died, and you had your damned mage bring you back to life! Bring my family back to life!"

 

Ryse hit him again. Through a rivulet of blood, Anduin saw Thelae make a move toward them. He waved her down with a hand surreptitiously. Luckily, the guard didn't notice.

 

"Then I lost my King, killed in battle. He stayed behind, do you remember, to save our people? He would not abandon them and it cost him his life."

 

"What does this have to do with me or you?" Ryse was trembling. "I should just kill you."

 

"He was my dearest friend, not just my King," Anduin said. "But he chose to serve Stormwind. Just as your brother did. Just as your sister did. They gave their lives willingly to protect the people of this kingdom."

 

Ryse hit him again, this time in his stomach. Anduin coughed and almost vomited, but made no move to retaliate.

 

"You joined the army for a reason. Was it just the money?"

 

Ryse had drawn his fist back again, but he held it at ready. His eyes were conflicted on the other side of all the anger and pain on his features. "My parents...my parents were killed by Orcs," he admitted. "We all enlisted. All but little Ulian."

 

"So hate me." Anduin spread his arms. " _Hate me._ I killed your family. I came back from the dead while your family is still in the ground. I would give my life again if I could bring back my son, but I _can't_."

 

The man's face was a weird mixture of hatred, confusion, and horror. Ryse hit him, rocking his head back.

 

"Don't take it out on the innocent or you'll be no better than you think I am. Don't attack my family. Attack _me."_

 

Ryse shoved him against the wall. "I should kill you!"

 

"Then do it!" Anduin screamed back at him.

 

All his own guilt over what this man had gone through, and what Khadgar and Taria had gone through because of him, all his guilt over even being alive came to him in a rush. In that moment, he really wasn't sure if he was just taunting the guard, or if part of him hoped that he might.

 

Ryse was so close to his face that their breath mingled.

 

Then suddenly, the guard stepped back, and the tears spilled down his cheeks. His face was raw with grief, but also a sort of shocked disbelief as his eyes raked over Anduin's face.

 

Anduin closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

 

That was that, then.

 

#

 

Khadgar stiffened at first in Taria's arms, as if afraid he'd hurt her even without speaking an incantation; but of course, he didn't, and he quickly leaned into her and swallowed hard to fight back tears.

 

"I c–could've killed him," he said, still shivering from the chill hanging in the air. "I didn't even know I cast it until I saw him run, I...I can't..."

 

–––––––

 

Thelae had seen enough; she wouldn't allow Anduin to let this continue any longer, whether or not his assailant was remorseful. She stepped out of hiding and approached them slowly, trying not to set off either of them.

 

"That's enough of this," she said, her voice not loud, but not leaving room for argument, either. "Regent, you go to the healers. Ryse, with me."

 

#

 

Anduin bristled with anger. That was not what he had expected or wanted to happen next–he wanted to take the man for a drink. "Stand down," he cautioned.

 

Ryse sent a shocked look, first to Thelae, then to Anduin. "You didn't come alone."

 

"Not by choice," Anduin said, a little bitterly. This was not the way to win back trust.

 

Ryse looked between them again. His shoulders slumped. "Why do you follow him?" He asked Thelae.

 

"Because he is kind," Thelae said.

 

Anduin's shocked eyes went to her face. She smiled a little grimly at him.

 

Ryse looked again at Anduin, and this time it was assessing. "I’ll go with her," he said. "I'll go. I tried to kill you, sir. I don't know what you're thinking." The last part was muttered.

 

The 'sir' was not lost on Anduin.

 

Thelae took the guard away, and Anduin picked up Ryse's abandoned helmet. After a long moment, staring at it, he punched the stone wall with his fist.

 

He shook out his knuckles, then went to follow Thelae's command, although he headed to a place in Old Town, not the castle and not the Cathedral. He didn't want anyone talking, or anyone reporting, to his sister or anyone else.

 

He wondered if there was anyone in the mage district who could cast a glamour to hide the bruises. He couldn't avoid Khadgar, not while the mage was recovering and needed him, but neither did he want to answer the questions that were sure to come.  
  
––––

 

Back at the Cathedral, Taria hmm'd at Khadgar soothingly. "But you cannot be expected to heal on your own, alone," she said. "There are other mages in the city, Khadgar. They might not be Guardians, but can no one hold a shield around you while you recover, if you are so afraid?"

 

#

 

"I'm not...afraid. Not for me. I'm afraid f–for everyone else," Khadgar said with a bitter laugh. A shield around him wouldn't do much if he could cast right through it–and no mage should be expected to hold a shield for that long, anyway.

 

"What if I hurt Anduin?" he asked, not meeting her eyes. He couldn't. "If me being alone is what's going to keep everyone else safe, then..."

 

He didn't finish the thought. He didn't have to; they both knew what he was talking about. He was terrified that he would hurt Anduin, maybe even kill him, lashing out like this.

 

#

 

"Khadgar," Taria drew in a steadying breath and asked for the strength of the Light. "There is no right answer. I don't want you to put yourself or Anduin at risk. But I do not think my brother could survive losing you, however that might happen, be it by your own choice or otherwise." She tilted her head at him. "Do you?"

 

–––

 

Anduin was released from the healer's what seemed like hours later. The old woman wouldn't let him leave, though, until even minor scratches were healed. It didn't do anything about the bruising, though, of course.

 

Sealing himself and knowing he might as well get it over with, he returned to Khadgar at the Cathedral of Light, and was horrified to see Khadgar's room covered in ice. It seemed like his sister was talking to him already, though, so he remained in the hallway to wait. She was better at comfort than he was.

 

#

 

Khadgar shook his head; no, he'd seen how Anduin was when he thought he might lose 'his mage', and it was much the same way Khadgar reacted to the thought of losing Anduin. The idea was unthinkable; and he'd been _so close_ to it, once.

 

"I'm s–sorry," he said, teeth nearly chattering. He wasn't sure what exactly he was apologizing for–nearly killing the healer, worrying Taria, making her comfort him in a room more suited to a polar environment, maybe all of the above. "I'm sorry, I just...I don't know what to do. I don't want to hurt anyone. But I don't want to l–leave. I've..."

 

He paused then, taking in a shaky breath, curling his fingers to try and keep them from going numb. He needed to get control back.

 

"I've never had a family before. I don't want to leave," he repeated in nearly a whisper. 

 

#

 

Taria laughed,but not unkindly. "Khadgar. Would your Queen be sitting on the hard floor of a cathedral in ice no less for anyone but family?" She smiled at him. "I hope you think of me as your sister."

 

She thought for a moment. "You've been through quite a lot of trauma. Soldiers, after wars, sometimes also lose control of their emotions, and can act out physically because of that. You're not doing it consciously, only while you're sleeping, but perhaps you should speak to the healers about it in those terms."  
  
––

 

Minutes had passed, and so help him, Anduin was not the most patient of people. He picked his way over the slick floors cautiously

 

He was surprised to find his sister and Khadgar on the floor sitting right in it, though, coldness and water be damned.

 

There was no sign of a fight, and no alarm from either the Queen or the Guardian or the Healers, so Anduin had to guess Khadgar had had a nightmare, just as before. He felt badly for not being there with him, but he didn't regret it–he felt he had, finally, done something to keep those he loved safe. He felt no threat anymore from Ryse.

 

Shrugging mentally, and honestly just needing to sit, he joined them, sitting on the other side of Khadgar so the mage was cocooned in the middle of the royal siblings.

 

#

 

Khadgar laughed, barely. "Maybe I should wear those cuffs while I sleep," he said, though the joke fell flat when his wrists still stung with the burns. Though one good thing about the cold was that it numbed some of the pain. 

 

He lifted his head abruptly when he realized that they were no longer alone–but then he saw that it was Anduin. Sitting down on the icy floor with them, no less.

 

Anyone else might call these siblings crazy.

 

"Anduin, I'm sorry, I–" he started, but he stopped himself as soon as he got a good look at Anduin's face. All at once, the temperature of the room dropped another ten degrees. "What happened to you? Are you alright?"

 

#

 

Anduin waved him off with a smile. "I'm sorry I couldn't have been here while you slept," he said. "Although I would prefer that my..." he looked over Khadgar's shoulder at Taria's amused but warning eyebrow. "...sensitive parts not be frozen off, thank you."

 

He gestured to the room. "It's warm outside, even for July, but not _that_ warm," he mentioned, rubbing his arms. "Though if we get the Wildhammers to help us this will be a neat trick."

 

#

 

Khadgar was on board with that, really. "I'm t–trying," he said, closing his eyes and trying to concentrate. When he opened his eyes again they were glowing, but they quickly flickered as the arcane energy made the burns on his wrists flare to life.

 

He had to stop for a moment, brow furrowed from the effort, leaning more heavily against his two supporters. "S–Sorry," he muttered, almost rubbing one of his wrists and thinking better of it at the last second. 

 

The counter spell should be easy; he'd accidentally overshot the amount of energy needed to ice off the door, which was why he was currently the center of a localized ice storm. But it was hard to focus when every spell made his wrists burn like they were still in the manacles. And now it was even harder to focus with how cold he'd gotten, his whole body trembling and his hands and feet going numb. 

 

#

 

"All right, enough!" Anduin said. "Khadgar. Khadgar, stop. I was teasing more than anything else."

 

Taria had moved away, alarmed, but Anduin reached into the whirlwind, bits of ice and snow stinging his bruised cheeks, and grabbed Khadgar by the shoulders. He did his best to avoid the mages wounds, but it wasn't like he could see.

 

He pulled Khadgar to his chest. "You're going to make me never leave your side, but you won't like that," he cautioned into Khadgar's ear. "You like running off without me too much."

 

Taria had gotten a blanket from the bed, and with wide eyes she wrapped them both in it before stepping back to a safe distance.

 

#

 

Khadgar flinched at first at the grip on his left shoulder, but he quickly forgot about the pain as Anduin pulled him in close. It couldn't have been easy for Anduin to tolerate the cold; Khadgar steeled himself, knowing that he had to rein in the energy.

 

He clenched his jaw against the vicious pain and managed a shaky incantation of the counter spell, and this time, he withstood the pain long enough for it to work. The temperature began to rise, and Khadgar slumped against Anduin, burying his face against the man's shoulder.

 

"Why'd I h–have to try an ice spell...?" he said miserably, his wrists throbbing and body still shivering.

 

#

 

"There you go," Anduin kissed Khadgar's head. "That's it."

 

He looked over his back to where Taria stood with a worried expression and her hands clasped in front of her. She gave him a smile despite her concern, however.

 

"Thank you," he mouthed at her.

 

"Try a...warm summer breeze next time," Anduin suggested. 

 

#

 

Khadgar snorted. "A warm summer breeze wouldn't have iced the door shut," he pointed out, and then he remembered that Anduin didn't know about that part. He sighed.

 

"I...almost hurt someone again. One of the healers," he muttered miserably, the guilt still sitting heavy in his chest. "What if it's you next time?"

 

After all, Anduin was always there for him, which was a good thing–except in this case, when it could get him an ice lance to the face if he interrupted one of Khadgar's nightmares. 

 

#

 

Anduin shrugged. "Then it's me, spell–chucker. I know the risks of sleeping with the Guardian."

 

Taria coughed delicately. "I'll wait for you outside, Anduin," she said. 

 

Anduin gave her a rueful grin, then pulled back to smile at Khadgar as she left. "You've been through an ordeal, Khadgar," he said. "Nightmares are to be expected. Light knows I have them. I know you don't want to hurt me, but if you don't let me stay by your side you'll be hurting me in a way that's worse. We've both asked one another to risk our lives for our country." Anduin shook him a little. "And I don't think you are going to be risking mine if you stay by me. But what I'm saying is that it's worth it to me. Let me make that choice."

 

#

 

Khadgar hesitated, wanting to argue–but he realized that Anduin was right.

 

It wouldn't be fair to him to make that decision for him. He often tried to be protective, when in fact he was being _over_ protective.

 

"You're right," he said, flexing his fingers as the feeling slowly came back into them. "If you want to stay by me...I won't object. Not sure I could even if I thought it best," he added with a weak laugh. He realized then that they were both going to suffer if they stayed on the floor for much longer, and he slowly stood up; though he had to brace a hand against the wall as pain shot through his leg. He was still tired–healing of that amount was exhausting for both healer and recipient–but now, he was afraid to sleep.

 

#

 

"All right," Anduin said. "Good." He helped Khadgar back to the bed, then kissed his lips. "Give me one moment, or Taria will drag me out by my ears."

 

Anduin went to the hallway, shutting Khadgar's door behind him. "Thank you–" he began.

 

"What in the name of the Light happened?" Taria asked, grabbing his chin so that he winced. She turned his head from side to side. 

 

It was rare that his sister swore, but he supposed he deserved it. "Khadgar figured out who the spy–"

 

" _Spy?"_ She questioned sharply.

 

"Think about it, Taria. A castle full of guards, a city full of soldiers, and Dark Irons were able to find you inside Stormwind inner halls?"

 

Taria's face blanched. "I suppose I was too...overwhelmed...to give it much thought," she admitted. 

 

"He figured it out this morning," Anduin said. "I took care of it."

 

"What do you mean by that?" She looked even more worried. "Whoever it was, they need to have a trial."

 

Anduin laughed darkly. "They will have one, sister. Do not worry. Thelae took him into custody." He ran a hand through his hair, and she grabbed his wrist, forcing him to meet her eyes. 

 

"What is it?" She asked softly. 

 

He lowered his voice. "I sympathize with him," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "I'm sorry. For what he did to you and Khadgar I should hate him, but I only blame myself. A sister and a brother both killed in my wars."

 

She touched his cheek. He flinched. Taria pursed her lips and shook her head. "I want you safe, Anduin. I want you to keep yourself safe. What did you do?"

 

He shook his head. "I spoke with him."

 

She laughed abruptly. "'Spoke'?"

 

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You're safe now. The children and Khadgar are safe. I'm going back in to comfort 'my' mage, Taria. If you must know all the details, I'm sure you'll be speaking with Thelae."

 

She sighed at him, and shooed him back inside. 

 

Anduin sat down on the bed next to Khadgar, then stretched out beside him with a reflexive groan. To forgo yet a second interrogation, he closed his eyes, hoping the mage would get the message.

 

#

 

Khadgar had settled down in bed by the time Anduin returned, and it was an automatic reaction to pretty much latch onto him as soon as he laid down next to the mage. Khadgar shifted to minimize the pain, one hand taking up a position he found himself in a lot–his palm flat on Anduin's chest, just right to feel his heart beating. To know he was here, alive and well.

 

"You're not off the hook, you know," he mumbled against Anduin's shoulder tiredly. "Wanna know why you're off getting bruised up in brawls when I'm not around."

 

It was phrased as a joke, but he meant it–he didn't like the fact that Anduin got hurt. He liked it even less that Anduin seemed to be avoiding the subject.

 

#

 

Anduin began his usual ritual of stroking Khadgar's back. It was soothing, to feel the mage's body, heavy and warm in his arms. 

 

"I dealt with our spy problem," he said, giving in. Khadgar would find out eventually anyway. "Thelae has him in custody, and I don't think he'll retaliate. He just needed a focus for his anger. He was taking it out on the wrong people. He had to understand that we aren't just royals, above it all."

 

He sighed. "I wanted to befriend him. Taria sent Thelae after us and it got out of hand. I wish he hadn't been taken in, and I'm sorry for saying that after what you've suffered."

 

#

 

Khadgar sat up a little, despite the pain that came along with it. "You went after him? By yourself?" he asked incredulously, an edge of anger to his voice.

 

"He needed a _focus_ for his anger? So you gave him _you_ , on a silver platter, and gambled that he wouldn't run you through the second he got the chance?" he added, pressing his hand to his face in frustration for a few moments. When he moved his hand, he gave Anduin an anguished look. "You do know that this is exactly what you scold me for, right? Going off and doing dangerous things without even letting you know?"

 

He understood the motivation, he really did. Anduin knew loss, knew how this guard was feeling–but grief or not, that guard had proved dangerous. He'd had his own queen kidnapped to get back at his king for imagined responsibilities, and that wasn't something you could just forgive and forget because of grief. Grief wasn't an all–in–one excuse for gambling with other people's lives and making awful decisions.

 

He wondered if Anduin would be saying the same things if he or Taria had been killed in that dungeon. He'd been tortured for hours, Taria had been forced to sit and listen to him scream in agony, and Anduin was 'befriending' the man responsible because evidently he felt it was more of a 'mistake' than a crime. Not only that, he'd put himself in a position where he could have been killed. Again.

 

Khadgar shook his head and swung his legs off the bed. "I...I need some air," he choked out, getting up and heading for the door. His head was spinning, his body aching from burns that still weren't healed, and he just couldn't make sense of this right now. He needed to leave before he said something he would regret later.

 

#

 

"Khadgar!" Anduin swung his legs over the bed, confused and shocked. "Any other way and he'd be a liability. He could talk to the guards. Either we sentence him to death or we make sure he's no longer a threat."

 

Anduin's eyes stung. He was put into an impossible position of trying to neutralize a threat while balancing out his personal desires to see the man killed for what he had done to his family.

 

"The Dark Irons tortured you. This man allowed that to happen, but Light...Khadgar, I killed his family. His parents were already killed by Orcs. He has an eight–year–old brother. That child will be an orphan without him." Anduin turned his face away. "This. This is what I was afraid of. I died, and you resurrected me. People who had their families torn from them are asking why I was given life while their sons and brothers and sisters and wives are still dead. Dead because I ordered them to war. Because they followed _me._ How can you ask me to blame them?"

 

#

 

"I'm asking you not to blame _yourself_ , Anduin!" Khadgar yelled as he turned around, actually _yelled_ , and Light, he couldn't remember the last time he'd yelled at someone in anger. His chest was tight and his eyes stinging with the threat of tears, and he didn't want to get into this, but he couldn't not say anything. 

 

"You've said yourself that this is war. That there are going to be casualties. You didn't draft them, did you? Your entire army is volunteers. Adult. Volunteers. They knew _exactly_ what could happen. And Light, if they'd asked to leave your forces and avoid those battles, you would have let them!" he said, his voice desperate, the words on the verge of breaking. "They went to those battles to save their people. To save Stormwind. Not for your own personal benefit, not for your personal gain; they went to save their people, and that's exactly what they sacrificed themselves for. Their deaths meant something, and it has nothing to do with you and your orders, and everything to do with protecting their people."

 

He could feel the arcane energy humming just under his skin, making his wrists ache like there was a shipyard rope tightening around the wounds. He shook his head and gave Anduin one last look. "Tell me this, Anduin; if you'd walked into that dungeon and found us both dead, would his grief and misplaced blame give him a free pass then? Would you be spending time befriending him at the funerals? Because if everyone in this city who has lost someone gets to take it out freely on whoever they _feel_ is responsible, then this city won't stand for long, because everyone wants someone to blame. Even when the one who lies dead wouldn't place any blame at all."

 

That said, he turned around and walked out, letting the door fall shut behind him. He barely felt the physical pain, for the moment; he was too focused on controlling the arcane energy that was agitated from his anger, too focused on trying not to regret speaking so harshly.

 

#

 

Anduin flinched as Khadgar spoke. He don't think he could remember Khadgar ever actually being truly angry with him, and it felt like physical blows. 

 

He was right, of course. Everything he said was right. 

 

And he could see what Khadgar meant, too–Khadgar was bedridden and scarred because of that man, and Khadgar thought that by what Anduin said, he had forgiven the traitor. Even if that was as far from the truth as possible. It was only that, much like the Dark Irons, he had learned what battles to fight and what battles to lose in order to win the war. His goal was to protect Khadgar and Taria and the children, and dissipating the dissidents' anger was the only means to that end.

 

But he could understand what Khadgar meant, and understand his feelings of betrayal. 

 

After the door slammed shut, he stayed on the bed a while longer, until there came a knock on the door. "Regent?" A tentative voice said. "Can we get you anything?"

 

Anduin wiped the water from his cheeks and stood. "No," he said gruffly. "No, thank you. I'll leave in a moment."

 

"Take as long as you like, the room is yours," the woman called back in an understanding tone. 

 

Asking him not to blame himself, though. Was he supposed to not blame himself for this, too? Because it seemed like Khadgar certainly did. 

 

With averted eyes, Anduin hastened from the castle, and then from Stormwind itself. He couldn't be around people that knew him for the moment. The Lion's Pride Inn would do well enough. The bartenders would recognize him, but he would have to leave Alliance territory to get past that. 

 

Though the sun shone brightly outside and even Goldshire was empty of drunks, Anduin found himself a booth in the corner and ordered what he was sure to be the first of many rounds.

 

#

 

Khadgar didn't even know where he was going at first. He had nowhere else to go–he couldn't go back to the castle, because inevitably someone he knew would see him there and want to know what was going on. And he really didn't want to explain, didn't want to talk to anyone at all right now. And unlike Anduin, he'd found the drowning his sorrows in alcohol wasn't going to be a valid option for him. Not after the first time.

 

He felt so _lost_.

 

 _Anduin probably hates you now for treating him like that_ , he thought, taking a back hallway to the back exit of the Cathedral, leading into the graveyard. He suddenly realized he was barefoot, and in his simple linen pants and shirt; not really appropriate attire for running around outside. 

 

Ignoring the fact that he really shouldn't be doing magic right now at all, he ported himself back to the room he'd been sharing with Anduin in the castle, just so he wouldn't have to walk through the halls and risk running into anyone. He grabbed shoes, his tunic, and his cloak, throwing them on and then hesitating.

 

 _Where are you going to go? You don't have anyone else. You have nowhere to go,_ he thought bitterly, and then he remembered–he did have one other place to call his own. If he needed to use it for a while to get away, then that would be safer than say, going and hunting down someone who wanted him dead. But at least he had some courtesy–he jotted a quick note down that read 'I'll be back in one day. I'll be fine.' and left that on the nightstand before grabbing Atiesh from the wall and making a new portal. It was exhausting, and his wrists felt raw, but when he appeared it was in the dead silence of his old room at Karazhan.

 

And he meant dead silence quite literally. There seemed to be utterly nothing present within the walls of the tower; Khadgar set up some half–hearted wards, grabbed some blankets out of storage, and was asleep nearly before his head hit the pillow in his old bed.

 

At least he couldn't accidentally throw an ice lance at someone's head here.

 

–––––––––

 

Dion wasn't surprised to find Anduin at the Lion's Pride Inn. He'd checked the bars in the city, and this had been his next guess, after hearing that Anduin and Khadgar had some kind of huge fight in the Cathedral.

 

Dressed in his civilian clothes to as not cause undue interest, he quietly moved to Anduin's booth and sat down across from him, not saying a word at first. 

 

"Have you had your fill, or are you not quite drunk enough to come back yet?" he finally asked dryly, obviously not impressed with Anduin's way of handling one fight.

 

#

 

"Mustard!" Anduin exclaimed in surprise, his tone a mockery of cheer. "Not quite drunk enough."

 

He waved over the bartender, and ordered both him and Dion another round. He shouldn't have been surprised that this wasn't even far enough to escape notice, but he was surprised that it was Khadgar's guard who had found him.

 

"Who sent you?" He slurred. "You can tell my sister I'm fine after you have this drink."

 

He looked comically alarmed for a second. "Has something happened...?" He scanned Dion's face, but finding no trace of worry there, settled back in his chair and downed the rest of his mug just as another took its place.

 

#

 

Dion did not look amused in the least.

 

"No one sent me," he said, and then he tossed a paper on the table. "Found this and figured you might want to be kept informed; your Guardian isn't at the Cathedral or the castle. Seems he's left the city. He left this behind."

 

Dion wasn't particularly worried; he trusted that if Khadgar said he'd be back in a day and that he was fine, he would be. His only worry was that Khadgar had still been healing–and that the Guardian was obviously upset about something. 

 

But there wasn't much to be done about it. By the time he could track the kid down, he would probably already be back from the self–imposed exile, assuming the best.

 

#

 

Anduin took the note and looked at it, and then groaned. "If he says he'll be back in a day, he'll be back in a day," he said. 

 

Chasing after him wasn't going to make Khadgar forgive him any sooner, and smothering him would only push him farther away. He had his guesses about where the mage had gone–where else would he go, really?–but by the time Anduin got to Karazhan by gryphon, the Guardian would already have ported back. 

 

Anduin tossed the note back at Dion and slid his arms over the table, burying his head in his elbows. "Thank you," he said. "I mean that. But please, Mustard. Scram. Your mage is fine."

 

#

 

Dion's eyebrow twitched. " _Your_ mage is in a lot of physical–and emotional–pain and just likely did a long distance portal that the healers would cry over," he said, and then he gestured to the table. "And my Regent is reacting to this fact by hand–waving it off and getting drunk in a random bar. Tell me, because I'm curious; do either of those sound _fine_ to you?"

 

He'd already gotten part of the story from Thelae and Taria. He knew a bit of what was going on. He wasn't happy about it, to say the least–and he wasn't sure what Anduin was thinking, being out getting drunk in public mere days before he would likely be declaring another war front.

 

#

 

Anduin sat back and blinked at Dion, ruffled but unsure if he was right to be offended. He pointed his finger at Dion. "You tell me," he said, and because he was drunk he had to start over. "You tell me how to keep him in one place, and I will give you a house."

 

He looked away from the guard. 

 

"I _know_  he's hurting, Dion. I know. I know this is my fault. Did you just come here to make me feel worse? I can't go get him."

 

#

 

"I don't want you to go get him, Anduin. I would just..." Dion paused and sighed, knowing that he was treading the thin line of insubordination. "I'd just prefer that you found a more constructive way to handle an argument, that perhaps doesn't involve drinking in public on the verge of a new war."

 

––––––––––

 

In Karazhan, Khadgar woke to a feeling of cold. Such cold that he could barely breathe–and then darkness.

 

Medivh opened his eyes with a gasp, almost overwhelmed at the bombardment of sensations. As a spirit, he couldn't feel, couldn't touch, couldn't smell or taste; now he could feel the bed beneath him, feel the pain of the wounds on the body he'd taken over, and smell the dust in the air. He coughed and slowly sat up, looking down at himself, getting used to the new form he had.

 

He hadn't wanted to take the young man without permission, but he was too weak as a spirit to communicate–he'd had no choice. He needed to get to Anduin, needed to talk with him–

 

–needed to visit Llane's grave. He'd been coherent enough in recent months to figure out what had happened, from catching snippets of conversation between the new Guardian and Anduin when they were last at Karazhan.

 

He decided to try out his abilities, swiftly unlocking all the barriers to the powers that had once been his own; he could put the barriers back in place before handing control back to the younger mage. He said a quick incantation, and felt the surge of power through him as the wounds healed–pure power. Not fel. It was like drinking clean, fresh water after living on bad mead for a lifetime.

 

"This will do," he said softly, and then he sighed. "I am sorry, Khadgar. I know you can't hear me, but I hope you'll understand."

 

He stood up, pleased to have his strength back, and put on the shoes and cloak nearby before taking hold of Atiesh. With a flourish, he created a portal and appeared in the Stormwind throne room, figuring that Khadgar's appearance there would not be unusual.

 

The guard nearby startled, but then relaxed. Medivh realized with a start that he wasn't used to that–the people here had never looked at him with such warmth. The young Guardian must have truly endeared himself to them. He turned to her and nodded once. "Guard, please find Lothar. Tell him his Guardian needs him in the courtyard. It is of the _utmost_ urgency."

 

The guard stared at him strangely for a few long moments, but then nodded and rushed off to find the Regent. Medivh made his way to the courtyard to wait, more than happy to just spend time feeling the breeze on his skin and smelling the fresh blooming flowers in the courtyard.

 

#

 

Anduin cringed, but the use of his first name had him staring at Dion. 

 

Finally, he accepted it. Here was a friend. Despite himself. He had always called the King by his first name, and Llane had always called him Anduin in return. The roles were reversed, but there was a precedent.

 

He toyed with the mug on the table, and in a flash of pique downed that before standing up and stumbling for the bartender. He threw down more coins than were necessary and left. "You're right," he called to Dion. 

 

That was all he really could bring himself to say. He didn't know what he could possibly do that was constructive at that point; he had no idea how to fix the argument with Khadgar. But Dion wasn't wrong to say he shouldn't be putting this face out to the public. 

 

They were almost to Stormwind's gates when a rider approached them. "Regent," she said. "Come quickly. The Guardian is asking for you."

 

Anduin exchanged an alarmed look with Dion. "Is he...is he well?"

 

"He seemed fine, my Lord," she said. "But he sent me to get you."

 

Anduin clapped a hand on Dion's shoulder, then got up behind the soldier on her horse, though in his inebriated state it took a few tries. 

 

Soon enough they were coming up on the castle courtyard, and Anduin felt very much like vomiting could solve at least forty percent of his current problems. He forced his hand away from his stomach as he crawled off of the horse and the guard took her leave. Khadgar was standing, somewhat stiffly, in the middle of the open space, and suddenly Anduin had a sick feeling that had nothing to do at all with his drink.

 

 _He's calling it off,_  he panicked drunkenly. _That was the last straw for him. I've lost him._

 

"Khad–" He swallowed. "Khadgar. You said you'd be another day."

 

#

 

Medivh turned around, started to speak, and stopped himself to study Anduin a little closer. Then, he smirked. 

 

"Are you perpetually drunk? It seems like every time I see you again, you're at some level of inebriation," he said, standing in that straight–backed, calm way that he'd always stood before, one hand still comfortably holding Atiesh. He couldn't even begin to say how happy he was to see his old friend–drunk or not–even if he knew the coming conversation wouldn't be a pleasant one.

 

"I'm afraid Khadgar is...indisposed, at the moment. Resting, if you will," he explained; he could feel the younger mage in the back of his mind, but only one mind could be conscious at once. He glanced down at the unmarred skin of his–Khadgar's–wrists. "I did take the liberty of healing his wounds as a...sort of thanks, for letting me borrow him for a bit."

 

#

 

Anduin had to look around the courtyard. He was unfortunately alone. 

 

"I'm not that drunk," he muttered.

 

Extremely drunk, yes. But not drunk enough to hallucinate his lover pretending to be...

 

Anduin's hands clenched by his sides. He didn't know what Khadgar was playing at, or even that he had it in him to be that cruel. 

 

 _But his hands. His scars. His skin was healed._  

 

Anduin dragged his eyes from Khadgar's wrists up to his face. The look in his eyes as entirely different than Khadgar's usual warm look. 

 

Suddenly ill, he stumbled to a bush and vomited into it. When he finished, he stood, shaking, hand closing around the hilt of his sword.

 

He looked back at Khadgar, and his hand dropped to his side. 

 

He _knew_  that tone of voice. He'd heard it for thirty, forty years of his life. His hand clenched around his sword again, but...

 

 _He had healed him. He had said, 'for a bit.'_  He was possessing Khadgar. 

 

Medivh. Medivh was possessing Khadgar. 

 

Once again, he forced his hand away from the sword. 

 

"How is this possible?" He rasped. He squinted, then had to blink quickly to stop himself from crying outright. There was no fel in Khadgar's eyes, only that dry, wicked humor he knew so well, and had loved so dearly. 

 

 _But he loved Khadgar more._  "You need to...Medivh. Medivh. It's you, isn't it? You need to..." Light, it should have been easy, but he _missed_  him. But Khadgar was not some vessel to be inhabited. "You need to get out of him." He said. "You need to leave." His voice was a wraith of what it usually was. The drinking, coupled with too many conflicting emotions, had made him weak. He didn't even know what to ask for. "You need to leave him alone," he said again, and that, at least, was firm.

 

"I'm hallucinating," he groaned a moment later. His eyes remained wide and terrified on Khadgar's face. 

 

#

 

Medivh wasn't entirely surprised at the reaction he got. Disbelief, anger, all of that–and he didn't blame Anduin one bit. He waited patiently for the obvious truth to settle in, because of all people, Anduin would figure out who he actually was immediately.

 

"I would have asked his permission, but...I don't yet have the strength to communicate in that way. This is the only way I could speak with you," Medivh said, with a touch of genuine regret in that familiar–yet–unfamiliar voice. It was Khadgar's voice, but Medivh's words, Medivh's inflections and slow, careful rhythm. 

 

"It's me, old friend. I swear to you, I will give him back control, but I needed to speak with you, and this was the only way," he insisted, and then he sighed. "Here. Let's make this...quicker. And easier. I'm sorry to undo all your efforts tonight, but it is for the best."

 

Medivh raised a hand, and with a soft glow, purged the influence of the alcohol from Anduin's mind. He normally wouldn't bother, but Anduin needed to be clear–headed for this. He wanted to speak to his old friend just as they used to, before...well, everything. And it would be easier without claims of hallucinations or breaks to vomit in the shrubberies.

 

#

 

Anduin clutched at his head, cursing. "Oh, _Light_ ," he said, suddenly sober, and followed it up with a round of more creative curses. He paced the courtyard, throwing Khadgar– _Medivh_ –incredulous glances. 

 

He couldn't attack Medivh, not with him in Khadgar's body, but he didn't think he had wanted to punch someone so much in his entire life.

 

He didn't even know where to begin. 

 

And echo from Khadgar's speech earlier surfaced in his mind.

 

_"Because if everyone in this city who has lost someone gets to take it out freely on whoever they feel is responsible..."_

 

He certainly felt like Medivh was responsible. But he didn't even know how much he could blame the man. He knew his friend would have killed himself before doing what he had done consciously. But that didn't take away the fact that willing or not, he was the reason for so, so much tragedy on Azeroth. 

 

He wished he was drunk again, because sober, everything made even less sense.

 

"You are _dead,"_ he pointed out the obvious. " _Dead."_  He paused. "...aren't you?"

 

#

 

Medivh chuckled. "Always right to the point," he said fondly. "I am dead, yes. My spirit was so weak after...it's taken quite a while to build my strength up even to the point of doing this. And I only could, really, because of how weak the new Guardian was, with his injuries."

 

Technically, Medivh could reach into Khadgar's mind and read it like an open book, if he wanted to. He could find out why the young man had been in binding irons, why he'd had burns; but he was already crossing so many lines, doing what he was doing. He wouldn't pry unless the situations was life or death.

 

He looked down and his shoulders slumped, the slightest bit; but on a man who was so reserved with his gestures, so controlled, unlike Khadgar, the motion may as well have been a full collapse. "I...can't expect forgiveness, for what I did. I don't even _remember_ everything I did. I was...I was weak, Anduin. That demon should never have been allowed to take me, and I will never forgive myself for that," he said, and then he looked back up at Anduin, brown eyes earnest and determined. "But I've come to you because I would like the chance to atone. I want to help you fix what I've broken in this world. Your new Guardian has so much power and an incredible mind, but so little experience; I have the knowledge necessary to make use of that power, but no means without him. I would like to ask you–and Khadgar–if I might be given the chance to undo some of the damage I wrought."

 

#

 

Anduin had bristled at the implication that Khadgar was weak in any way, but Medivh's next words pulled him up short. 

 

" _And Khadgar,"_ he echoed. There was so, so much that needed to be addressed and asked, but the scope of it was impossible to put into words. Anduin focused on the more pressing of problems. "What do you mean by that? He's still in there? Are you going to...always be in there? You cannot possess him. I will find a way if..."

 

The thought turned his stomach a little. Okay, a lot. He loved Medivh like a brother, or he had, once, but never as a lover and the thought of him _watching_  or worse being present every time Khadgar and he were intimate was alarming, at best, and so very many other things. 

 

"Where is Khadgar?" He demanded finally. "What have you done with him, while you play around in his mind?"

 

But what Medivh was offering...it couldn't be like this. It couldn't be without Khadgar. But if there were a way to have Medivh and his talents help them...by the Light he would take it. Khadgar had been struggling, alone, overwhelmed and completely unsure of where to go next. He was afraid of himself, and his powers were unpredictable. If the Light had brought back a mentor for him...it was beyond any and all scope of his dearest wishes for the mage.

 

His mouth tasted like ash, though. Bubbling up too, finally, around the anger and the hatred and the fear and the blame was _hope_. Hope, and an overwhelming joy despite it all that he was able to talk once more with his dead friend.

 

He couldn't even say anything to Medivh right then that it sounded like the former Guardian didn't already know. _It was your fault._  He could see that knowledge clearly enough in the lines of Khadgar's shoulders. 

 

And then of course was the knowledge that it _was_  a demon, and not Medivh, not really, that had wrought all this. 

 

So there was hope, and joy. He blinked back tears. He had cried more in that single day than in the past decade of his life. "I've _missed_  you," he said. "I miss you, and I _hate_  you, Medivh."

 

#

 

Medivh sighed, much like he would have when trying to explain a spell to Anduin when they were younger–it was a fond sigh, though.

 

"Two minds cannot be conscious in the same body at the same time. It would be...disorienting at best, and brain damaging at worst. Yes, Khadgar is still 'in here', but he's not aware of anything, and won't remember anything when I allow him control again," he explained. "It will be the same for me when he is in control. I don't have the strength to leave and repossess him every time, so I will have to...go dormant, so to speak, until he allows me control again. Like him, I won't be aware, and won't remember."

 

The hunt of a smile ghosted across his features. "And I could, technically, 'play around with his mind'. I have access to everything he knows, everything he remembers. But," he cut off the inevitable protest from Anduin. "I'm not going to. I would have preferred to get his consent for taking control at all, but...circumstances as they are, it wasn't possible. I won't hurt him, Anduin, or violate his privacy any more than I have need to in order to keep him safe."

 

He paused for a moment, studying Anduin a little closer. He recognized this protectiveness, this need to keep his loved ones safe, but he hadn't seen this kind of reaction from Anduin over anyone since...

 

...but no. That couldn't be right.

 

"You're awfully protective of a mage you used to just tolerate," he pointed out in a teasing tone. He'd seen glimpses of this protectiveness when the two of them were at Karazhan, but those parts were a little fuzzy, hard to remember. 

 

He smiled then, a real smile, and reached out to clap a friendly hand on Anduin's shoulder. "I've missed you too, old friend. And I understand if you hate me for what I've done. I only hope I can gain back some of your respect and friendship."

 

#

 

"So you're leaving me to explain this to him?" Anduin asked incredulously.

 

It was interesting, relieving perhaps, that it was as easy as falling back into old banter between them. Maybe the hugging would come later, as much as Anduin wished it wouldn't be punching, though, not with Khadgar's face housing Medivh's mind. It was good protection for the former–other?–Guardian.

 

Or–Medivh was suddenly in his space, clapping a hand to his shoulder, and by the Light if he closed his eyes and pretended he wasn't so familiar with the hand touching him it was exactly like old times.

 

He struggled to get his emotions under control. He wasn't going to give Medivh any ammunition by even hinting at the type of relationship he and Khadgar had, though, that was for sure. The Guardian had been aware of his dalliances before his wife, but aside from some good-natured ribbing it had been all that had been said on the matter. He had teased Anduin mercilessly about Calla until they had admitted to being in a relationship, though, and then Medivh had been insufferable about being right.

 

Anduin was silent for a long, long moment, but the look in Khadgar's familiar eyes was too, too dear, too familiar in a different way, that he caved and pulled Khadgar's body in for an embrace. "It is good to hear you...as yourself," he said, with a surprised chuckle. "Even if you're...you know. Not." He held him at arm's length again, eyes scanning Khadgar's features. He shook his head. "It is going to be a long while," he admitted. "A long while, Medivh, before I can even reconcile what you've done. But if you can help us now. I'll talk to Khadgar." He chewed on his lip. He hated how telling it would be, but his anxiety over the mage was reaching intolerable levels. "Can you let him...be. Let me talk to him."

 

And oh boy, was he not looking forward to this discussion.

 

#

 

"Well, I can't very well hop out and start chatting with him, now can I? And you wouldn't be nearly as well adjusted to handle an arcane spirit possession as a Guardian is," Medivh pointed out with a chuckle. He had faith that Anduin could explain to Khadgar well enough what was going on, and that the new Guardian would understand–and hopefully forgive him this one trespass.

 

He returned the hug, refusing to acknowledge the tears that threatened his own eyes; he was never the type to cry, but at moments like this, it was tough not to give over to it. "I'll give him back control. When–if–you'd like to speak to me again, just tell him to reach for me in his mind. He'll be able to pass over control quite easily just by concentrating on my presence."

 

Medivh took in a deep breath, as if savoring the last few moments of being corporeal before he would essentially be put in an unconscious stasis. Then, knowing that it would take at least a few seconds for the switchover to set in, he looked at Anduin with a mischievous smirk.

 

"Anduin," he said, and then he winked. "Catch."

 

He reached for Khadgar in the back of his mind and dragged him forward, and everything went white, then black–and then Khadgar collapsed forward like a puppet with cut strings.

 

#

 

"What–"

 

But that became quickly apparent as Khadgar–Medivh?–fell into Anduin. He cursed, both at Medivh and life itself. 

 

He patted Khadgar's cheek gently. "Khadgar. Khadgar? Are you there, kid?"

 

#

 

Khadgar heard Anduin's voice and opened his eyes, blinking in confusion. A lot of confusion. Because for one, he wasn't in any pain, two, he was fairly sure his was the Stormwind courtyard when he was certain he'd fallen asleep in Karazhan, and three, that was definitely Anduin holding him, looking down at him with concern.

 

None of those three things made any sense whatsoever.

 

"W-What–" he started, trying to lift his head and finding himself a bit lightheaded. "Anduin? How did I–what _happened_?"

 

He remembered collapsing into his bed in Karazhan, exhausted and in pain, and then...nothing. 

 

#

 

"This is going to be a lot," Anduin understated.

 

Khadgar didn't look like he hated him, though, so first thing's first. "Khadgar, I am _sorry._ " He clutched at the younger man. "Light, I am sorry. I'm sorry I..." Anduin closed his eyes. "I'm sorry that everything I've done has just made things worse for you. But there's something more...more urgent than this. It's going to be a lot to take in. It's unbelievable. But I'm here, I'm here if you want me here. So." He drew in a deep breath and opened his eyes. he wanted to stroke Khadgar's cheeks, like he had so many times in the past, but he wasn't sure if his touch was even welcome at the moment. 

 

"Medivh has returned," he said. "He's returned, but, Khadgar, I..." He shook his head and wished that since he were sober, Khadgar wouldn't be able to smell the alcohol on his breath. He was going to get in trouble for that, too, he was sure of it. "He's still dead. But somehow he's come back to us, and he's offering to help. He wants to help with the fel. And here's the part you won't like."

 

He launched into the explanation as best he could, and he didn't even bother to disguise the way his hands were shaking. 

 

The dead were not staying dead, recently.

  
#

 

It was a lot to take in. More than a lot. It was really, really hard to accept that you were missing a huge chunk of time because someone else had been in control of your body; though he had to say, he appreciated the healing, at least.

 

They could worry about their fight later. Anduin was right; this was more urgent.

 

"So...Medivh wants to possess me to help us with the fel?" he said, trying to get this straight. He wanted to reach out in his own mind, try and contact the person supposedly in wait there, but he was afraid that would trigger a switch. The situation had him torn; they needed the help. He wanted the help. He genuinely believed what Medivh said–if there was any fel in him, Khadgar would feel it. But at the same time, giving up control of yourself to someone else, trusting them to do the right thing...

 

...needless to say, that was difficult to swallow.

 

"I believe his intentions are good. I...I saw him come back to us, after the demon was defeated. I saw his remorse. I _felt_ it," he said, his expression pained at the memory of watching the man die. Of having to be the cause of it. "And there is no fel in him anymore. I would feel it. He is entirely himself."

 

Khadgar ran his fingers through his hair nervously before looking up at Anduin. "Anduin. You've known him far longer than I have, and I know you'll do right by me. Do you trust him with this?" he asked, looking vulnerable, but still strong, in a way. "If you trust him, then...I think it's worth the help he could give us. He knows the fel better than anyone on our side of this conflict."

 

#

 

Hearing Khadgar affirm that Medivh was at least whole again went a long, long way toward making Anduin feel better about everything.

 

In this case, he was glad to have his friend returned, but it could only do so much–it was his betrayal more than his death that had cut Anduin like a knife, in the end.

 

"I don't want him in your body," Anduin admitted. "But no, I don't think he would abuse you. And more than that, I think we need him, Khadgar. You're powerful, but what he said...he had years of protecting Azeroth before he fell. We could use his knowledge and his skill. You've been so worried about the fel lines, and this could be what we need to set things right."

 

Anduin couldn't keep the unhappiness off of his face. He just wanted to kiss Khadgar. He hated fighting with him. He hated knowing Khadgar was still mad at him, and there was nothing he could do to take back his words or fix his actions. 

 

#

 

Khadgar hated to admit it, but Anduin was right; they needed this help. Khadgar didn't feel ready, he hadn't felt ready all along, and this seemed like too good of an opportunity to pass up.

 

"You'll have to explain to him everything that's happened. You can show him my research, in the library," he said, resisting the urge to make a bad joke about asking the former Guardian not to burn it again. He thought a few moments longer, and then his breath caught and he looked up at Anduin a bit wide-eyed.

 

"Who are we going to tell?" he asked softly. "We...can't really expect this to stay a secret."

 

Medivh acted too differently from him, and aside from that, Anduin would have to be the line of communication between Khadgar and Medivh–which could get complicated. He wondered how the others would react, though–especially Taria, who like her husband, had such faith in Medivh, before the end.

 

#

 

Anduin winced. "Dion and Thelae, because they'll notice." He chewed on his lip. "Light, but I do not want to tell Taria. But we must. Aside from it being a matter of Stormwind's security, she'll know. She'll notice." He shook his head ruefully. "She was his friend, too. His betrayal hit her hard as well."

 

He pinched the bridge of his nose. 

 

"I would be lying if I said I weren't glad for the chance to speak with him again," he admitted softly. "But this is going to be hard for me, Khadgar. If you allow this, just know that."

 

He was already imagining associating Medivh and his endless teasing with Khadgar's kind face and warm lips. Khadgar, he hoped, would be prepared to deal with the emotions that Anduin was going to be struggling with, switching back and forth from dealing with someone he loved, to someone he also loved, albeit in a much different way, and _hated._

 

Perhaps with time the feelings he had over his old friend would reconcile, but for the moment, he could not imagine that end. 

 

#

 

Khadgar looked hurt for a moment, but nodded. He understood, and he wondered just how much of _this_ he would be giving up to save Azeroth from the fel.

 

Would Anduin even still be able to look at him the same way? It seemed unfair, to pin the consequences on Khadgar, but it wouldn't be fair either to blame Anduin for just trying to deal with the conflicting emotions.

 

"I understand," he said softly. "You, uh...probably want to tell him all of this and show him the research. And introduce him to Dion and Thelae. Right?" 

 

His words were hesitant, because he didn't want to give up control, even though he saw the necessity of it. He hated the idea of waking up and not knowing anything that had happened for hours previous.

 

"I'm...I'm sorry too, for what it's worth. For being so hard on you earlier."

 

#

 

Anduin didn't even care about the rest of it for a moment. His entire face brightened, despite the guilt lancing through him. "Don't apologize, please. Just accept _my_  apologies. I know you're right." He laughed humorlessly. "You often are, spell–chucker. I'm sorry I'm dealing with everything so poorly."

 

His face fell again. "I know it's only been less than a day, but I _miss_  you." He held out a hand, wanting to hug Khadgar to his chest, but not wanting to force any contact on the mage if he were still too angry with him. He let his arm drop back to his side. 

 

He ran a hand through his hair. "Just please make him be the one to explain things to them. I don't think I can again. I don't want to have to make excuses for that bastard."

 

#

 

Khadgar laughed. "I can't make him do anything. Sorry, but looks like you've got two stubborn mages to deal with now," he joked, giving Anduin a grin. It felt like a weight was lifted off him–even if things got awkward with this new complication, at least they were on the same page now.

 

He wasn't leaving it at that, though. He closed the distance between them and cupped the warrior's face in both hands, pulling him into a firm kiss. "I missed you too," he said softly, because he had. Light, he'd missed him. 

 

And now he'd have to hand over control once more, and only hope things were still okay when he got it back again.

 


	15. Installment 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They'd been through so much, lost and gained so much, and they were still here. Still together.
> 
> He couldn't have hoped for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has read this monster, and especially to everyone who's taken the time to comment!
> 
> I promised myself I'd finish compiling and posting this thing before a whole year was up, and I just barely made it. We ended the RP on July 26, 2016 so a whole year later this thing is finally complete!
> 
> It was a wonderful journey for me personally, getting to play in the game world with characters who I love so much, and I'm so sad that it's over. On the other hand, I will finally be able to sleep at night knowing that IT'S COMPLETE!
> 
> Thank you again, all you readers and commenters! You've encouraged me and made this project of love worth it! <3

Anduin felt like a weight had been lifted off of him. He kissed Khadgar back vehemently, then pulled him into a tight hug, burying his face in his neck.

 

"One was enough," he joked weakly. 

 

Finally he pulled back. "If you're up for it, we can go find Taria and the others now," he said. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Dion at least will be glad to see your return. Your guard already yelled at me on your behalf. We're on a first–name basis now, did you know that?" Anduin rolled his eyes, and taking Khadgar's hand in his own led them both into the castle to find his sister and their friends.

 

#

 

Khadgar laughed, because he could see that happening. "Sorry. I think I'm rubbing off on him," he said sheepishly as he followed Anduin down the hall, holding tight to his hand.

 

At the same time, he was curious, though. Maybe he could try and communicate with Medivh without making the switch–it was worth a try, right? 

 

Well, now was as good a time as any. He reached out in his mind, looking for that familiar presence; he immediately sensed it and took hold, trying to make contact, and–

 

–Medivh stumbled as he was abruptly thrown back into control of Khadgar's body, and it took a few moments for him to process the situation. Namely, the fact that he was being led down the hall hand-in-hand with Anduin Lothar.

 

"You know, I believe the whole 'hold your buddy's hand whilst you travel through Murloc territory' is something you stop doing in your fifth year of school," he pointed out with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous look, deliberately not letting go yet, just to see the look on Anduin's face.

 

#

 

Anduin dropped Khadgar's hand as if it were made of fel. 

 

"Thank you so much for the warning, bookworm," he muttered.

 

He shook his head with a sideways glance at Medivh. "You'll want to hold my hand after Taria's done with you," he said.

 

Light, but this was going to take some getting used to.

 

#

 

Medivh laughed, and Light, was that an unfamiliar sound, for more than one reason–one, that it wasn't his own voice, and two, that he couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed. 

 

"If it's any consolation, I don't think he meant to. I believe he was just testing the limit of communication and did a fantastic job of stumbling right over it," he pointed out, filing the hand-holding away as future teasing material. He mirth tempered, though, at the mention of Taria.

 

He didn't want to face her. Not after all this. Not after he'd caused the loss of her husband.

 

"I would...like to visit Llane's grave sometime. If that's alright," he said, his voice quieter now. He didn't often ask permission for little things like that, but for this...he felt he needed his friend's blessing.

 

#

 

Anduin's jaw clenched, but he was going to have to make amends with the fact that it wasn't truly Medivh who had done all the terrible things that had befallen Azeroth. 

 

He would have to, eventually. Not yet.

 

Nevertheless, he thought he could do this one thing. The thought of visiting Llane with someone who had truly known him as Anduin had felt like it might be a balm.

 

But...

 

"Ask Taria, " he said curtly. "Not me."

 

#

 

Medivh nodded, even though Anduin wasn't looking; he didn't really need to reply. He could feel the anxiety growing as they got closer to their destination, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like fleeing when Anduin knocked on the door and was called inside.

 

He followed Anduin into the room, stopping short and his breath leaving him when he saw Taria there. The guilt was heavy enough to leave him at a loss as she greeted Anduin.

 

He didn't know what he could possibly say to her that would show how sorry he was for what he'd caused. Perhaps no words existed for it; either way, he stood as if at an executioner, waiting for her to be told–or notice–that this definitely wasn't Khadgar she was facing.

 

#

 

"Anduin, Khadgar!" Taria exclaimed happily, despite the crease of a frown beginning on her forehead. "I'm glad you're back, Khadgar. Thank you for the note. That's better than some of us would do."

 

The frown bloomed then as she looked at Anduin. "We didn't know where you went. You made poor Dion check every inn in the city. It's none of my business what the two of you fought about, but disappearing after you went after a potential assassin by yourself, Anduin? And let him almost kill you?"

 

Anduin's eyes widened to the point of pain. Well, that was just great, now he'd have Medivh on his ass, watching his every move, too.

 

Also, his sister thought she was ratting him out to Khadgar, which was just dirty of her. He crossed his arms defensively, but by then she had narrowed her gaze at Khadgar.

 

"Has something happened?" She asked. "Khadgar! Your skin, it's healed!" The expression of joy crept back onto her face. "Why do you look so unhappy?"

 

And she was back to Anduin. "What did you do to him?"

 

Anduin wordlessly pointed to himself incredulously. 

 

Then he kicked Medivh in the leg, something he'd done thousands of times to Medivh when they'd gotten themselves in trouble, and rarely to Khadgar.

 

"Tell her," he hissed.

 

#

 

Medivh raised an eyebrow at Anduin–going after a potential assassin by himself, really?–but he was quickly cut off from that train of thought by Taria's line of questioning and a swift kick from Anduin. 

 

He cleared his throat and looked down for a few seconds. "A moment, Taria, please?" he asked, because she was on a roll, and he knew once she got started it could be hard to throw her off.

 

It would be impossible, once she knew.

 

But how in the world to break the news?

 

"Khadgar is...not currently the one you're speaking to," he said, the words halting, obviously uncertain. "It's a bit of a long story, and while I'm usually quite the fan of regaling you with long, embellished tales, I suppose now isn't the time–"

 

Another kick from Anduin. Ah, yes; time to stop stalling and get to the point.

 

"I'm afraid the person you're speaking to is not the current Guardian, but the former."

 

#

 

Anduin rolled his eyes, hard. "Taria. What Medivh is _trying_ to say is that..."

 

"Medivh?" Taria's voice was small and horrified. "Medivh in _Khadgar?_ What is this?"

 

She had been told the account of what had happened. She knew all the gritty details. Her hand was shaking over her mouth.

 

"Where's Khadgar, then? How is this possible?" Her voice was bordering on shrill. Anduin knew she wanted to order the guards to take him away, but like Anduin, couldn't bring herself to chain Khadgar to the same punishment.

 

"They explained it as if they can both use the same body, but not at the same time, Taria," Anduin said, hoping it would be better coming from him. "Khadgar gave Medivh permission."

 

"Why would he do that?" Taria asked. She sounded like she was about to burst into tears.

 

"He's offering to help close the fel lines. We need him, Taria. Khadgar can't do this on his own." He looked sharply between Medivh and Taria. "Do not. Ever. Repeat that."

 

Taria's eyes were wet, but she nodded at him. It was rare he used the voice of a commander to his friends when not in the heat of battle.

 

#

 

Medivh didn't like seeing Taria like this. She had always been a close friend, someone who he could confide in when Llane or Anduin were unable to lend an ear; the thought of her looking so troubled about him being present at all was a worse feeling than he imagined it would be.

 

"Please, Taria. I realize that I am the very last person you wish to even speak with, let alone work with, but I've come to offer my aid in whatever ways I can help," he explained, managing to sound calm despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to comfort her. It had been so long since he'd truly spoken with her. "Khadgar has access to so much power, but he doesn't have the experience to know how to use it, and if I'm correct about the current situation, he does not have time to learn."

 

He paused then, almost reaching out for her, but stopping himself short. He could tell that Taria cared for the new Guardian, more than he'd expected. Something was going on with Khadgar in this place that he was not aware of, and he wasn't sure he should pry. "You have my word that I will do everything in my power to protect your Guardian."

 

#

 

Anduin nodded in agreement with Medivh, and he appreciated that Medivh was pledging his service to protect the man that had killed him.

 

Taria looked at Anduin, not at Medivh when she spoke. "Can I speak with Khadgar, Anduin?" She shook her head. "I sound insane." Her eyes flicked back to Khadgar's face, then back to Anduin's swiftly.

 

Anduin cocked his head at Medivh.

 

#

 

Medivh bowed his head, just a little. "Of course you can," he said, and then he gave Anduin a knowing look–and reached back in his mind, practically throwing the other mage's consciousness back in control.

 

Khadgar stumbled and gasped, grabbing onto Anduin before he could fall, his eyes going unfocused for a few moments until he blinked and shook his head. "Whoa," he said, reeling as he tried to adjust to what amounted to waking up from a coma to a completely awake state in under a second. It made his whole body feel _weird_.

 

And then he looked up and realized that Anduin wasn't the only one watching him–Taria was there, and she didn't look happy. "T–Taria. Um...I guess you met my temporary roommate?" he said, and okay, it was a bad joke, but he had to do something to break the tension of the room that he'd pretty much just fallen into.

 

He _hated_ not knowing what had happened while he wasn't in control.

 

#

 

"So it is true," Taria looked between the two men with an expression like she might be ill. "Khadgar, are you all right? What is this doing to you? What _happened?_ "

 

She was looking at Anduin like it was all his fault. "He can't hear us right now," Anduin offered up. "Medivh."

 

"You're all right with this?" She looked between him and Khadgar with confusion on her face. "Medivh...sharing Khadgar's..."

 

Anduin was extremely glad she didn't finish voicing that sentiment out loud. _"No."_ He said vehemently. "I am not. But, it's Khadgar's choice to make, and it sounds like Medivh has no other options."

 

He realized he'd clenched his hands by his sides. He forced them to relax. "It's really him, Taria. I can sense it."

 

Taria was looking at her brother with sympathy in her eyes. "And you're not glad at all to be able to speak with him again?"

 

" _He betrayed us,"_ Anduin bit out. "Llane is dead, Callan is dead..." He drew in a breath and turned his face away from both Khadgar and Taria. "I miss who he was. Six, seven years ago. But all the time and what he's done...it should be _Llane,"_ he spat. He shook his head, though. "It's selfish of me. I will be _fine._ " He said. " _Fine_ working with him. He deserves to clean up his mess." He shook his head yet again, then turned back to Khadgar. "We need him," he said.

 

Light, couldn't he have chosen anyone but Khadgar, though.

 

#

 

"I'm fine, really, Taria," Khadgar insisted, because he hated worrying her, hated seeing that look on her face. "I mean, it's not ideal by any means, but...it's what we need to win this fight. And it's not hurting me, I just...lose that time, when Medivh is in control. I don't remember anything."

 

Which wasn't comforting to anyone. "But there's no fel in him. He wouldn't be able to hide that from me in my own head. Medivh is entirely himself," he added in a hurry. He'd been the only one to see Medivh before he died, after the demon had been purged from him; no one else had seen that remorse, that regret, and he wished he hadn't been the only witness. Just being there, unable to help, had torn Khadgar apart as he watched the former Guardian slip away from them, realizing only in his final moments that he was finally free of the fel.

 

He gave Anduin a sympathetic look. "I know it's not the way we'd like to go about this. If there were another way, I wouldn't even consider this option, because...well, it's not fun, losing time and letting someone else have control. But if it's what we need to do to get rid of the fel, then I'll manage. His knowledge is invaluable in this."

 

#

 

There again was that wash of relief at Khadgar's words.

 

"Maybe it truly is our friend, Anduin," Taria said.

 

Anduin brought shocked eyes up to her face. She gave him a commiserating smile. He nodded at her.

 

If she could forgive Medivh...

 

And if there was no fel in him...

 

It would take a while for Anduin to forget the face riddled with ridges and horns, but Khadgar himself had almost become a demon. The only difference was he fought it the entire time. He never embraced it. So there was that small shard of blame that he couldn't shake.

 

It was more like an iceberg, really.

 

But he missed his friend, and obviously Taria did, too.

 

"I sanction this," Taria said, clearing her throat. "As Queen. But do not tell anyone who absolutely must not know. There is too much distrust over our use of a mage as it is. I want Khadgar to be welcomed here, not viewed with eyes wondering if they're looking at the true Guardian or the old one. Nothing would be worse. Too many people know of his fall, and to have even the hint that they are connected..."

 

"Of course," Anduin said.

 

Not to mention, more personal implications for him. He did not want those rumors even half–thought.

 

He hated, though, that it was hard for him already to look at Khadgar.

 

#

 

Khadgar nodded, swallowing hard. He didn't like this–he did trust that Medivh would do the right thing, but it was still hard to accept the fact that he would have to be apart from it. 

 

"I trust all of you," he said, looking at Anduin and finding that the man wasn't looking back.

 

He had the feeling that would be pretty common from now on, until Medivh wasn't sharing his head space.

 

But that didn't mean it hurt any less. It almost tempted him to hand over control to Medivh and just let him keep it till this was over.

 

"You'll all have to get him up to speed on everything that's happened. Since I can't communicate with him directly," he said, looking back to Taria, because it was easier than seeing the way Anduin was pointedly _not_ looking at him. "Anduin knows where all my research is."

 

#

 

Anduin picked up on an off note in Khadgar's voice and did look at him then, unhappily. He hadn't meant for Khadgar to notice his discomfort, but Khadgar was far, far too perceptive for anyone's good, least of all his.

 

He nodded. "I'll show him what you need me to. Just tell me." He gave Khadgar a lopsided smile. "It's not like you're going anywhere."

 

His smile strengthened a little. "At least he was already useful." He gestured to Khadgar's wrists. "Thank the Light he healed you."

 

#

 

Khadgar looked down at his wrists, rubbing one carefully. "You'll have to tell him thank you for me," he said, wishing that he could talk to Medivh himself. It was maddening, having to communicate through others like this.

 

"I will need...time to think on this," Taria said softly. "But I will want to speak with Medivh later, in private. For now, you should get him caught up on the situation and introduce him to Dion and Thelae. There's no way this can be kept from them for long."

 

Khadgar nodded, turning back to Anduin. "Should...should I talk to them first? Or do you want me to hand things back over to Medivh?" he asked hesitantly. He wasn't sure how Dion and Thelae would react–they wouldn't be happy about it, that was for sure.

 

#

 

Anduin stepped forward. He wasn't entirely sure that Khadgar had forgiven him from their fight earlier, but it seemed like enough for this, at least. He took Khadgar's hand in his own and squeezed. "Let me keep for you a little while longer, Khadgar," he said. "They'll probably believe it from you better anyway."

 

He smiled up at Taria. "I'll keep you updated," he promised.

 

She nodded at him.

 

Anduin transferred his arm to Khadgar's shoulders in the hallway, half–afraid the mage would throw him off but not really caring. He wanted to feel close to him while he could.

 

"Give me warning, next time you switch," he advised. "I ended up holding his hand. I'll be hearing about that for months. If he's here for that long."

 

There was a weird twinge in his chest, at that, and he couldn't decide if it was his traitorous heart rebelling at losing his friend again, inevitably, or irritation that he would have to put up with him for that long.

 

#

 

Khadgar blushed, leaning into Anduin a bit–he'd missed this contact. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I was trying to see if I could communicate with him without handing over control. It, uh...obviously didn't work."

 

He wondered if Anduin didn't want Medivh knowing about how close they were–it seemed like it would be hard to keep from him, but maybe he just didn't want to deal with the extra awkwardness that came with his friend knowing he was sharing a body with someone Anduin was sleeping with. 

 

He pulled Anduin to a stop in the empty hallway, hesitating before pulling him into a quick kiss.

 

"I'm sorry about this," he said softly. "I know you're not really comfortable with it."

 

#

 

Anduin laughed. "That's an understatement." He kissed Khadgar back, though, assured it was his lover and not his childhood friend.

 

"I've known Medivh for long enough that a little hand–holding wouldn't be a problem, once," Anduin admitted after a pause. "But I tried for _six years_ to get in touch with him, Khadgar. I didn't see the man for half a decade. It is complicated enough without having to look at your face while I'm talking to him." He shook his head and his mouth quirked. "Also, he's an asshole," he said simply, knowing Khadgar could remember his treatment on their first visit to Karazhan well enough. "He's worse than Taria when it comes to meddling." He dragged a hand over his face. "And he's going to have a field day with your age, and with the mage thing, and with..." he gestured to all of Khadgar. "He knew pretty well that I dallied with men," he held up a hand. " _One. Once._ " He smiled. "Before Calla, and he was fine enough with it, but that doesn't mean he didn't tease me every blighted chance he got."

 

Anduin shook his head and laughed again, uncomfortably. "I've known him for my whole life," he finished. "But it's the fact I didn't know him at all these past few years that make this so...odd. I don't even know where to start with him. I have to start this from scratch on two fronts. First with forgiving him, and then just getting to know who he is again. And then having you thrown into the mix...be patient with me. I know this is going to be harder on you."

 

#

 

Khadgar chuckled. "I only knew him in those last few weeks. I wouldn't know what parts were him, and what parts were...the possession. Much of the time, though, I think he was himself," he said, and then he looked down. "He actually praised me, after that first orc ambush."

 

That had been a major moment for him–the Guardian of Azeroth, telling him that he'd done well. Even now, knowing what he now knew, that was still a point of pride for him. 

 

He grabbed Anduin's hand in his own and squeezed it. "It'll be tough on both of us. I'll want to know everything that happens when I'm...not awake," he said with a nervous laugh. It wasn't going to be easy, trusting everyone around him so completely to do right by him.

 

"Let's just...promise not to fight through all this, because I'm guessing Medivh really doesn't want to play mediator," he added with a laugh. He still felt kind of bad for yelling at Anduin. "And that would make it hard for you to avoid the teasing, too."

 

Though really, he actually thought it would be kind of funny to see Medivh teasing Anduin about being with a mage twenty years his junior. But Khadgar wouldn't be able to see it anyway, so that point was moot.

 

#

 

Anduin was touched that Khadgar was actually bothering to make him feel better about his friend. He'd thought he'd be overwhelmed, but as usual, Khadgar was accepting the facts with ease.

 

He pulled Khadgar into a kiss. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I don't like you that mad at me. I love you, bookworm." He gave him a quick smile. "And I'm not leaving your side when you give him control. Don't worry. "

 

They were outside of Dion and Thelae's quarters. "Are you ready?"

 

#

 

Khadgar returned the kiss, and then nodded. "As I'll ever be," he said, following Anduin inside after he knocked and was called out to enter.

 

"Khadgar. You had me worried," Dion said, standing up from where he sat at the table looking over reports. "Why did–wait. Are you healed?"

 

Khadgar rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah, about that...it's kind of complicated."

 

#

 

Anduin gave him a sympathetic smile, leaning back against the wall and crossing his arms, propping one foot up. "You're not going to like this, Mustard," he said. "I'm not the only one coming back from the dead these days. Khadgar has...a guest."

 

#

 

Dion looked between Khadgar and Anduin with a deep frown, and Thelae didn't look any happier. "A guest? What's he talking about, Khadgar?" Dion asked, and Khadgar sighed.

 

"I'm sort of...sharing my head with Medivh," Khadgar said, and held up a hand when he saw Dion was about to get very angry. "I gave him permission. He's going to help us."

 

"Help us?" Dion asked incredulously. "He's the reason this whole mess started!"

 

Thelae crossed her arms. "I accept your magic because I trust you, Khadgar. I do not trust the former Guardian, and Tyrande would not either, I imagine," she said, and Khadgar winced.

 

"It's...it's not that simple, he didn't..." 

 

#

 

Anduin winced as well, in tandem with Khadgar. 

 

"It's not Khadgar's fault. He has to deal with this, not...he didn't invite him in," Anduin clarified swiftly when he heard Khadgar start to stutter. "Dion, you've been here long enough. You saw him before. You _know_ how we were." Anduin frowned unhappily. "Me, Llane, Medivh. And Medivh...I wanted to kill him. He was like a brother to me and he betrayed all of us. I can't even believe I have to defend him now. He was the _Guardian_ , Thelae, Dion. The Guardian. Just as Khadgar is. He was a good man. A loyal friend. What happened to him...I can only begin to guess how something like the fel took root in him." He jerked his head toward Khadgar. "And I am _not happy about this,_ " he pointed out. "All I ask is that you know, so you can help Khadgar when he needs it, and I need you both to swear to keep this between you. That is an order, not a request."

 

He sighed. "But we're both here as friends, right now." He let his gaze glance over both of them. 

 

He turned to Thelae then. "Thank you, for earlier," he said, and gave her a half–bow. "You're an emissary of your people and it's too easy to forget with the way you've served all of us, and Stormwind. You have a choice, then. You can stay and obey those two small requests I've made or go back to Kalimdor. But you'll be risking our alliance. I'm trying not to strong–arm you into your decision, Thelae, but as a friend I must be honest. I understand your concerns. I don't like keeping anything from Tyrande. Your High Priestess is also an ally, and a friend. But _we need Medivh._  He can help us fix what he's done."

 

He took in the whole room again, Khadgar included. _"I am afraid,"_ he ended. "I want to save this world, but I can't do it, not from this threat, but Medivh and Khadgar, together..."

 

#

 

"I saw how you were, yes. And that is why I'm suspicious; because we didn't see it coming then. How would we now?" Dion asked, his expression turning from anger to concern.

 

"He's no longer influenced by the fel. I defeated the demon that was controlling him," Khadgar said, his voice firm. "He's in my head. I would know if there was any fel still contaminating his spirit. There isn't any; Medivh is himself again, as he once was."

 

Dion seemed to relax a bit at that. Not entirely, but it was a start. He looked between Anduin and Khadgar, and then sighed.

 

"If you believe this is right...if you truly trust him...then I will as well," he said, and Thelae gave him a startled look. 

 

"I am...not confident in this at all. I disagree with the methods, not the intentions," Thelae said, and then she took a long look at Dion before turning back to Anduin. 

 

"You have my bow, and my trust, for the moment," she said. "But if Medivh turns on us again, I trust that as a king, you will be able to do what needs to be done," she added, and Khadgar flinched. He had a brief flashback, eyes going distant as he remembered Anduin standing over him, holding a sword and ready to strike him down–only to attack Gul'dan instead. 

 

#

 

Anduin met Thelae's eyes, and he felt torn between laughing and crying. If it were Medivh, in his own body, he would have no trouble agreeing in a heartbeat. But harming Medivh meant harming Khadgar. 

 

"We'll get there when we get there," Anduin muttered. 

 

Wouldn't that fit his life perfectly. One friend, back from the dead, only to make him kill him again along with his lover. That would be _just like his life._

 

He had no doubt, though, that Thelae would have no such hesitation, friend of Khadgar's or not. 

 

Anduin was feeling increasingly frustrated. Dion had no trust in his judgement, after what happened with Medivh's first fall, diplomatic use of the word "we" aside; Thelae had no trust in either of them, and here she was asking him to promise the impossible; and after the morning spent with Khadgar yelling at him _for trying to keep him and his family safe_  he felt like he had to go hit something or explode. 

 

Except he couldn't. Because he had to babysit Medivh. 

 

#

 

Thelae nodded, seeming appeased by that, at least. She narrowed her eyes at Khadgar. "Can he hear us? Can he take control whenever he feels the need?" she asked, and Khadgar shook his head vehemently.

 

"No. He's not aware when he's not in control, and he doesn't remember anything," he said, snapping out of the brief moment of fear he'd been in. "And he can only take control when I let him."

 

She didn't seem convinced, but she let it go. Khadgar turned to Anduin and nodded toward the door. "Can we go?" he asked quietly; he needed a break from these constant interrogations. A break in general. 

 

#

 

Anduin could not have agreed more heartily. "Thank you both," he was gracious enough to say to Dion and Thelae, nodding at them.

 

He left with Khadgar, his hand in the small of the mage's back.

 

"Can we find one more person to tell us that they don't trust our judgment?" Anduin griped once they were in the hall. "I don't think I've gotten the message clearly enough."

 

#

 

"They may not agree, but I know they won't turn against us for it," Khadgar pointed out, trying to look at the bright side. Not that the bright side was particularly bright, but oh well. 

 

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Can we just...go rest for a while? I'm tired of explaining this. Tired of defending our reasoning here," he said in a rare moment of weakness.

 

He really just wanted to lock himself away for a while and pretend the world didn’t exist outside his door. Pretend that here wasn't another Guardian lying in wait inside his mind.

 

#

 

Anduin raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Now I know you're possessed. Asking to rest?"

 

They walked together to Anduin's– _their_ –room, Anduin knocking their shoulders together on the way. 

 

He tried hard not to think about the day they just had. Between dealing with Ryse, a fight he'd rather forget, and his lover being possessed by a dead friend _who he was still angry with_ , he was ready to just close his eyes and wait for another lifetime. 

 

He kicked off his boots and lay down on the bed.

 

#

 

Khadgar got into the room and stripped off his boots, socks, and cloak before dropping down on the bed next to Anduin. However, 'next to' didn't last long as he pretty much latched onto the warrior, getting comfortable pretty much halfway on top of him.

 

"If anyone knocks, I'm turning them into a duck," he muttered, tucking his head under Anduin's chin. 

 

He was serious, too–he wanted to relax for a while, for once in his life, fel or no fel, and he was going to do it, damnit. 

 

#

 

Anduin was surprised to find that Khadgar had been completely serious when he said "rest"–the boots and cloak were simple, the socks meant that Khadgar actually meant to stay in bed.

 

"Wait...up," he said, making the mage move before he settled in entirely. He pulled off his shirt–which still had blood on it from the earlier confrontation with Ryse, but blood on his clothes seemed to be usual, these days–leaving him with a bare chest. He, too, pulled off his sweaty socks and threw them into the laundry basket across the room.

 

He settled down and again and pulled Khadgar back into his chest. Despite himself, he made a contented noise. 

 

It was disconcerting, knowing that Medivh was inside that body, but he had to trust both Khadgar and the former guardian when they said that when they weren't in control, they weren't aware.

 

#

 

Khadgar made a disgruntled noise when Anduin made him move, but he quickly settled back in when the man laid back down. He got comfortable again, one leg thrown over one of Lothar's, his head tucked under Anduin's chin, and his hand on the man's chest. 

 

"Love you," he murmured, already starting to doze–not quite falling asleep yet, but getting there as he trailed his fingertip in lazy circles on Anduin's chest.

 

#

 

Anduin kissed his hair. He'd needed to hear that since their fight that morning. 

 

Khadgar's fingers tickled, but not enough to be irksome. 

 

Outside, there was a light drizzle, and the sound of the raindrops coupled with Khadgar's comforting weight relaxed him enough that when Anduin shut his eyes, he fell asleep without a struggle.

 

–––

 

It was several hours later when Anduin woke again. The rain had stopped, and outside his window there was the still the faintest glow of light to the sky. If he had to guess, it was about 8 p.m. He was used to sleeping all hours, when he could and where he could, but he had to wonder at Khadgar, who never lived life on the road as a warrior. 

 

He looked down at the mage's parted lips and dark eyelashes, a faint smile on his lips. He was happy to see him peaceful, even if it was only in sleep.

 

#

 

Khadgar felt Anduin begin to stir, and he woke slowly, taking his time coming back to the real world; he'd not been having nightmares for once, and he was loathe to give up the opportunity.

 

That said, he was happy that Anduin was still here, that no one had bothered them. He lifted his head to kiss him lazily, smiling into the kiss.

 

"M'still not getting up," he insisted stubbornly, still basically pinning him down.

 

#

 

"Woe is me," Anduin bemoaned jokingly. He laughed. "Threats are meant to have unpleasant consequences. You're doing that entirely wrong."

 

He kissed Khadgar back, then got a mischievous glint in his eyes. The mage had seemingly made himself heavier, and it seemed teasing; Anduin trailed his fingers down his back, and then tickled Khadgar's sides purposefully. 

 

#

 

Khadgar jumped in shock–and with a rather embarrassing noise, too–and struggled to get away from Anduin's grip.

 

"Anduin–stop–" he managed between laughter, until he finally got ahold of Anduin's hands. He pinned them to the bed next to Anduin's head, ending up straddling his waist.

 

"What was _that_ for?" he asked breathlessly, sounding both exasperated and amused.

 

#

 

Anduin grinned up at him, pleased with the result. He allowed his hands to be captured lazily. "You sounded so stubborn," he said honestly. "Seemed like the thing to do."

 

He liked looking up at Khadgar, he realized; he liked the feeling that the mage was relaxed enough with him to tease him. 

 

For Anduin, too–as much as he liked the feeling of Khadgar under him, and being the one to make the mage let himself go–so many people looked to him for answers and leadership that being able to give up some control to someone else, someone he trusted, felt like a relief. 

 

He relaxed under Khadgar and pushed his hips up, just enough that their mostly–soft cocks touched briefly, teasingly. 

 

#

 

Khadgar took in a sharp breath and dropped his head forward, his grip tightening on Anduin's wrists, just for a moment.

 

"This is not resting. This is the opposite of resting," he pointed out, though the protest was halfhearted at best. Especially considering the fact that he gently rolled his hips in the movement, his body not waiting long to start taking interest in the direction this was going. 

 

#

 

Anduin smiled up at him. "So come back down here," he invited. "And we can sleep. If that's what you want."

 

He wasn't going to push things, especially not if Khadgar was genuinely tired enough to want to rest–that came so rarely he was not going to encourage the mage to do anything but.

 

#

 

Khadgar laughed. "Oh, no. You started this, now you have to finish it," he said with a smirk, leaning over to kiss Anduin, much more eagerly than before.

 

He pushed his hips down again, a little harder this time, making a soft noise of pleasure into the kiss. No, sleep was pretty well out of the question now, and though he would blame Anduin for it, he certainly wasn't complaining. 

 

#

 

"Make up your mind, spell-chucker," Anduin growled with a smile against Khadgar's lips, kissing him back. He swiped his lips with his tongue, and followed it with a gentle nip of his teeth.

 

Anduin bucked his hips up into the pressure Khadgar offered, giving them a gentle roll. It didn't take much encouragement from Khadgar to get his body interested; he felt heat beginning to pool in his groin. 

 

He looked up at Khadgar under lowered lashes. He liked watching the happiness on Khadgar's face.

 

#

 

Khadgar moaned into the kiss, letting go of Anduin's wrists to brace one hand on the bed and cup Anduin's face with the other. He knew they wouldn't have many more moments like this in the near future–so he was going to make the most of this one, and indulge in it while he could.

 

He kissed his way down Anduin's neck and along his collarbone, adding a few marks that would probably last quite a while, unseen–but it would be enough to know they were there.

 

He nuzzled where Anduin's neck met his shoulder, his breathing coming faster now as he rocked his hips against Anduin, his cock straining against his pants. "What do you want, Anduin?" he asked breathlessly, eager to please and very turned on.

 

#

 

Anduin extended his neck back, groaning. 

 

Well, if he hadn't been hard before, that question in that voice was enough to do it. His breath was quick in his chest. "I want to have you," he said after a moment's pause, "But there's no way he'll mistake that," he added. 

 

He didn't have to clarify who he meant. He pushed his hips up invitingly, and gave Khadgar a lopsided, easy smile. "So anything you want to do," he added. "Just..." He thrust his own hips in time to Khadgar's movements. "If we do much more of this it might not be a question."

 

The friction against his straining cock was sending jolts of pleasure into his body. 

 

#

 

Khadgar thought it was kind of amusing that Anduin was actually thinking about _that_ right now, of all times. He smirked against Anduin's skin, nipping at it even as he shifted so his ass was against Anduin's cock, and he leaned back a bit to put his weight on it.

 

"Are you sure?" he asked, leaning forward to kiss him again before pulling away to rock backward against him. "I mean, we don't _have_ to, if you want to be careful."

 

Yes, he was being a horrible tease about it. Maybe he just wanted to see how far he could push the teasing before Anduin lost his patience. Either way, he was definitely enjoying himself, sliding one hand down Anduin's chest torturously slow. He was dying to get things moving himself, but he could be very patient when he needed to be.

 

#

 

"All right," Anduin said, laughing, even as he thrust himself up into Khadgar. "That's it." His cock slide along Khadgar's ass and he shuddered as he got his weight under Khadgar and with one roll of his body got the mage on his back. He grinned down at his flushed face. He kissed him, and then went deeper with his tongue, taking Khadgar's mouth and scraping teeth over his lips. 

 

He brought his hand between their bodies and rubbed his palm over Khadgar's interested member. "Too many clothes," he pointed out. 

 

He got off Khadgar only long enough to find the dwindling jar of medicinal lubricant. He stripped down to his skin before practically ripping the pants and tunic off of Khadgar. 

 

Once he had him naked beneath him, he scraped his teeth across Khadgar's neck, following it with licks and kisses, sucking his skin almost, almost painfully before apologizing with his lips.

 

He got down to Khadgar's length and kissed that, too, before taking him into his mouth, as far back into his throat as he could allow without suffocating.

 

#

 

Khadgar laughed as Anduin flipped him over onto his back, though the laugh was quickly smothered in a deep kiss, one that Khadgar gave into without hesitation. He moaned into it as Anduin's hand rubbed over his cock, his hands moving to grip Anduin's hips.

 

"Agreed," he said breathlessly at Anduin's assertion that they were wearing too many clothes, because he could definitely agree with that. Though it seemed Anduin was eager enough that he didn't need much help stripping them both down; and Khadgar barely got a chance to breathe before Anduin was on him again, sucking marks into his skin and he couldn't help but think;  _really Anduin, how are you going to explain those to Medivh_?

 

But now wasn't the time to tease him about that, because then Anduin was taking him in, and Khadgar had to fight not to thrust up into the tight heat around him. He groaned and buried one hand in the man's hair, trying not to pull it and only half succeeding.

 

#

 

Anduin hummed around Khadgar's cock, letting the vibrations add to the slide of his mouth. The pain of Khadgar tugging on his hair didn't bother him; he enjoyed feeling the mage wanting to take instead of give for once, and he liked knowing it was a sort of begging.

 

He pulled off Khadgar with a smack and grinned down at him. "You're _beautiful_ ," he said, looking at Khadgar spread out below him, flushed and wanting. On his knees, he coated his palm with the oil and took himself in hand, watching Khadgar as he pumped himself, getting his cock as slick as he could. 

 

He then coated three fingers but started with one, returning his mouth to Khadgar's length and licking the head as he slid one finger into him, slowly, learning from their past experiences. 

 

#

 

Khadgar felt himself blush at the compliment–it wasn't like he was used to being called things like 'beautiful'–but it hardly mattered when he was immediately distracted by Anduin's mouth and fingers once again. He dropped his head back against the pillow with a loud moan, moving his hand from Anduin's hair to clench the bedsheets tightly.

 

He was prepared for the sensation this time, and with Anduin going slower, it was easier to relax into it; there was the barest hint of pain, and even that quickly faded. He spread his legs a bit more, practically pleading without words as he lifted his head to look up at Anduin again.

 

"Please," he said shakily, encouraging him to keep going, because he felt like if he didn't get Anduin in him soon, he would fall apart.

 

#

 

Anduin pulled back enough to smile at him. "Soon," he promised, and added another finger, stretching Khadgar gently as he dipped again to take him back into his mouth. 

 

When he felt the mage relax enough around his knuckles that he didn't think it would be that razor-sharp pain he'd felt when Khadgar had done this to him, and he had likely inflicted on Khadgar that first time, he tried as best he could to remember the angle of his hips as he rose and kissed Khadgar deeply on the mouth, entering his lips with his tongue as he so very, very slowly pushed inside of him. 

 

#

 

Khadgar pressed into the touches, confident this time that any pain from the stretch would be well worth it in the end; all the same, his breath caught at the ache of Anduin finally pushing inside him. It was slow enough, though, that he had plenty of time to adjust, his back arching as he relished the feeling of being as close as possible.

 

He returned the kiss for a few moments, and then he smirked against Anduin's lips; he wrapped one leg over one of Anduin's, and then shoved up and over with his hips, managing to topple Anduin on his back while still staying pressed against him.

 

Somehow, he thought Anduin would appreciate this particular use of the little trick he'd taught him. 

 

Of course, that just pressed Anduin deeper inside him, and Khadgar braced his hands on Anduin's chest with a shaky moan as he sat up. "Oh, _Light_ ," he gasped out, unable to stay still; he lifted himself a bit and dropped back down, letting out a strangled groan at the feeling.

 

#

 

"Wair–Khad–" Anduin began, alarmed the mage would hurt himself with what he realized he was trying to do.

 

But then he lost coherence as Khadgar was suddenly on top of him, sheathing Anduin fully into his body.

 

Anduin felt like crying; Khadgar's weight and tight heat was so intense get could barely think. His hands gripped Khadgar's thighs as if he were holding on for his very life. With wild eyes trained in disbelief on Khadgar's face, he arched his back, moaning unintelligibly. 

 

Then Khadgar lifted up and slammed back down, fucking himself on him, and Anduin had been wrong–what was already perfect could get better.

 

"Khadgar!" He cried out. "Light!"

 

He was taut and trembling under Khadgar's hips.

 

#

 

Khadgar would have gloated about being able to pull noises like that from Anduin's lips, but in truth, he wasn't much better off himself when it came to coherence right now. He shifted his weight and finally found that angle, the one that made him see stars.

 

Slightly literally. The blue of the arcane was already flickering like candlelight in his eyes, though he didn't know it.

 

"Anduin, _Anduin_ ," Khadgar moaned, the name coming out like a prayer on his lips as he leaned back a bit to keep that angle, having to move his hands to brace on Anduin's thighs to keep his balance. It gave him better freedom to move, though, using both his knees and his arms to support himself each time he lifted up and dropped back down.

 

He could feel himself getting closer by the second, each movement like a pulse of electricity through him, and _Light_ , at this rate Anduin wouldn't even have to touch him to send him over that edge. 

 

#

 

 

 

Anduin gasped and thrust and _watched_  as Khadgar lit up, his face illuminated by the glow of his own power. 

 

He loved this man so much. 

 

It was a miracle he loved him back. King or not, all Anduin was a man, no magic inside him, nothing extraordinary other than title and expertise on a battlefield. 

 

Now was not the time to question it, though. 

 

As Khadgar leaned back, it sent his cock bobbing stiffly in the air, need dripping from the end. It reminded Anduin of how selfish he was being and he immediately took him in hand, pumping with one and covering the head with his other, so that every thrust sent Khadgar into his palm. 

 

He tried to hold on because Khadgar seemed to be enjoying himself so much, but the sight and feel of him was too much for Anduin, and he came, curling off the bed with a shout. 

 

He pumped Khadgar firmly, shuddering into the other man's body with a feeling of wonder.

 

#

 

Khadgar cried out in pleasure as Anduin took ahold of him; it was nearly an overwhelming amount of stimulation, combined with Anduin starting to thrust up into him.

 

His legs were shaking from the effort as he finally found release, grinding down on Anduin with a near scream as his eyes flashed blue from sheer pleasure. For those few long moments, all he could think about was how much he loved this man underneath him.

 

He pretty much collapsed forward onto Anduin after, unable to keep holding himself up, his whole body trembling in the aftershocks and muscles already complaining. It was all he could do to lay there and catch his breath.

 

"M'kay...now I'm really not interested in getting up," he joked with a breathless laugh, but there was wonder in his tone, because before Anduin he'd never imagined anything could feel _that_ good.

 

#

 

"You've convinced me," Anduin said, sleepy and content.

 

He kissed Khadgar and wrapped his arms around him. 

 

"That was amazing. You're amazing." He rubbed the other man's back gently. "Thank you, Khadgar. Thank you for being with me." He smiled down at him. "I had thought there was nothing that could make this life bright again, and despite everything we're facing, anything that will come, you've made me feel whole again." 

 

He kissed Khadgar's sweaty hair and smiled. "I love you."

 

#

 

Khadgar grinned; he couldn't help it, when Anduin opened up like that to him. "You don't have to thank me. Before you, I didn't have anyone," he pointed out softly, returning the kiss before lying his head down on Anduin's chest.

 

Before Anduin, he hadn't had a family and hadn't thought he needed one. He'd been basically alone for so long, he thought that was what he was fated to. That he would live alone and die alone, like so many other Guardians before him. He even convinced himself that he preferred things that way, that it was less complicated. Less risky.

 

Turned out, the risk was worth it by far.

 

"I love you too," he said without hesitation, because there was no question; no matter how much they fought, or how far apart this war might drag them. 

 

After all, Khadgar had crossed the veil of death once for Anduin, and he would do it again. 

 

#

 

"Just let me be grateful," Anduin huffed with a laugh. "If I want to thank the most powerful mage in Azeroth for wanting to be with me, I think I have that right."

 

Just then a knock came on the door, followed by a servant woman's voice. "My lord, Guardian? The Queen is asking if you feel rested enough to join her for a late supper, or if you would like food brought to your quarters?"

 

#

 

Khadgar wanted to object at the 'most powerful mage in Azeroth' quip, because he was sure there had to be someone out there well beyond him, but he didn't get a chance before there was a knock on the door.

 

He groaned and buried his face against Anduin's chest. "We should probably go," he muttered, the words muffled against Anduin's skin. He knew Taria had had time to adjust to the new situation–she probably had more questions, or wanted to talk to Medivh. 

 

#

 

Anduin cuddled Khadgar to him one last time, relishing the feel of their bare skin touching, then kissed Khadgar and shuffled him to the side, sitting up. He ruffled Khadgar's hair fondly. 

 

"The voice of reason," he laughed.

 

He pulled fresh clothes from the wardrobe, then caught sight of his collarbone in the mirror. Khadgar's love bites still marked him. He smiled, not quite caring enough to try and cover them. His shirt was high enough unless someone was really trying to stare, anyway.

 

#

 

Khadgar reluctantly sat up, running his fingers through his hair with a sigh. At least he got in some actual rest–even if it was punctuated by something that definitely was _not_ rest.

 

He didn't mind, obviously. 

 

He got dressed in clean clothes and stretched, and then tugged Anduin into one last kiss. "Love you," he said with a smile, and then he lead the way into the hall and toward the dining room.

 

He had the feeling that would be the last peaceful stretch of time they had together for a while. 

 

#

 

"Oh, good," Taria smiled at them, albeit it was an uneasy smile. She looked the up and down and it became a little happier. "Khadgar?" She questioned.

 

#

 

Khadgar smiled. "It's me, Taria. For now, anyway," he said, trying to get her at least a little bit more comfortable by joking about it. He had the feeling that would be the only thing to keep him sane through all this. That, and Anduin.

 

He sat down at the table next to her with a sigh. "Are you...okay with this? I mean, I know you sanctioned it because it's what we _need_ right now, but aside from that. I don't want this to make you feel unsafe or uncomfortable," he asked, figuring it was a safe question now that she'd had time to think it over.

 

#

 

Taria reached over and took his hand. She gave it a gentle squeeze, then turned his wrist from side to side with a thoughtful smile.

 

"Medivh was and is–if he is truly himself again–a dear friend. He would never–" she took a shuddering breath then composed herself. "Never," she said, more softly, "Have done anything to hurt us had he been himself. I believe that with all my heart." She looked with strength in her eyes at Anduin.

 

Anduin kept her gaze for a long moment, then nodded.

 

She seemed to relax at that. "Having even one of our friends back with us is a blessing. Even if it means we'll have to lose him again.

 

"But at least we will mourn him with love."

 

"And we would rather the conditions were different asking you to share your body with another is almost an impossible thing to ask," Anduin said, and Taria nodded.

 

#

 

"I'm definitely not...fond of the idea, but it's what needs to be done. Better me than one of you; people almost expect the bizarre out of me," Khadgar said with a chuckle.   
  
He squeezed her hand in return, and sighed. "Dion and Thelae aren't happy about this. But they didn't know Medivh as well as you or Anduin," he said. He trusted Anduin and Taria to make the right call on this; he was quite literally putting his life in their hands, and Medivh's. 

 

#

 

"Can we...speak with him again?" Taria looked worried. "I won't ask this of you again. From now on after this, I'll expect you to switch only when you're comfortable."

 

#

 

Khadgar reluctantly nodded. "Whenever you have need, Taria. I know this is important to both of you," he said, glancing to Anduin once more before he reached out in his mind for Medivh's presence.

 

His eyes went unfocused and distant for a few long moments, but Medivh was more accustomed with taking control quicker; it was only a moment before he blinked and found himself at a table with Taria and Anduin.

 

The difference was immediate. He sat straighter, every movement a bit more graceful, a bit more calculated. "Anduin. Taria," he said with a nod, letting them know he was in control now. 

 

#

 

Taria peered at him, wary. Anduin took her hand, and she straightened.

 

The siblings regarded Medivh, with Khadgar's dear face, seriously.

 

"Apologies will not make up for what you have done," Taria said. "But I believe you have returned to us for a reason. So I will do my best to judge you on your actions now, and not the past, or we will have no hope."

 

#

 

Medivh nodded, obviously taking her words with the heavy weight they carried. "I understand. And I won't ask you to forgive what shouldn't be forgiven," he said, the words soft, softer spoken than Khadgar would ever be. 

 

He regarded Anduin carefully. "I will do everything in my power to aid Khadgar in your fight. That young man has been gifted with more power than you know, more power than he could possibly learn to wield in such short a time," he explained. When he had inherited the powers of Guardian, his mother had been there, and Moroes; he hadn't been nearly as alone as Khadgar was now.

 

Khadgar had support here, true–but none of them could truly grasp the scope of what he had inherited.

 

#

 

Anduin nodded soberly, and managed to say without any acidity, "I wish you could have mentored him. It would have been good for him to have someone who is a master of the arcane to guide him. But your own piece of this aside, we defeated Gul'Dan. He defeated him, and then the demon that followed as well. You would be surprised how far he's come."

 

It was harder to keep the pride from his voice.

 

"We missed you, Medivh," Taria said. "Llane, and Anduin, and I. For years. I wish...I wish we could have helped you. What happened?"

 

Anduin flinched and closed his eyes. He, for one, did not want to hear about it.

 

But Taria deserved her questions too, so he didn't interrupt.

 

#

 

Medivh nodded. "I sensed as much. Their deaths sent a shockwave through the spirit realm, the likes of which I'd never witnessed before," he said, remembering the way the deaths seemed to reverberate through the other–world. 

 

He'd felt relief. True freedom from the tyranny of the thought that the demon, the fel, might return to claim Karazhan and the spirits there. 

 

His expression darkened at Taria's line of questioning, and he looked down at the tabletop. "I started...missing time, about eight years ago," he explained, his voice less certain now. "I would wake in the tower, and Moroes...oh, _Moroes,_ my friend..he would tell me that I'd been away for days, and I remembered none of it."

 

He looked back up at them, with the expression of a tormented soul. "I eventually sequestered myself, thinking that I was a danger to all of you. I now see what a mistake that was; it only made me more isolated, more vulnerable. But by the time I figured out the truth of what was happening, it was too late."

 

#

 

"Oh, Medivh," Taria said, her voice sad.

 

"What is the worst about this," Anduin said, "Is that even had we known, could we have helped you?"

 

The chef brought in plates of food. Suddenly struck by realization, Anduin pointed at the plate. "And could you eat that? Khadgar gets distracted," he said.

 

"I think we're past that point now," Taria said. "But that sounds very similar to another Guardian we know."

 

Anduin clarified, "Trying to keep people safe from himself. He's been having trouble controlling his magic when he has nightmares. Could you help him with that?"

 

With a hesitant hand, Taria reached out and took Medivh's fingers in her own. "I wish I could see you again with your own face."

 

#

 

Medivh shook his head a bit sadly. "You likely could not. I would not have let you," he said, a frown furrowing his brow. "Khadgar told you that I burned all his research, did he not?"

 

He paused and, as Anduin wished, took a bite of food and chewed thoughtfully. After so long of having no need to eat, the flavors were nearly overwhelming. "At the time, I...did not know why I'd done that. I only knew that I had to. I _must_. I was...in control, but being driven by something beyond myself. I would likely have done the same to you, had you attempted to reach out to me."

 

He swallowed hard as Taria took his hand; he'd never been the type to cry, but the anguish on his face was enough. "I know of a couple of things that may help with the nightmares. I suffered the same," he said. "I'll write them down for him. We can't have him pulling away from you. Especially not now."

 

He would know. Pulling away from his friends had likely been the final straw for himself.

 

#

 

Taria turned her sorrowful gaze from Medivh to Anduin. She raised her eyebrows at him as if to say, isn't it enough?

 

Anduin stared back at her, and then forced himself to look at Medivh. It was painful to see that much pain on Khadgar's features, and at the same time, the contortions of his face were entirely different than Khadgar's. 

 

But still familiar. This was Medivh, Anduin realized. Medivh, who had been so dear to him. Medivh, who had killed his–not just Anduin's, his very own–closest and only friends. The man who had destroyed the world he'd sworn to protect.

 

And he was telling the truth. He had not been in control of himself. 

 

Anduin scraped back his chair, and gave Medivh a long look.

 

"Anduin," Taria warned.

 

Anduin grabbed Medivh by Khadgar's shoulder, and hauled him from his chair.

 

Taria stood up in alarm. "Anduin..."

 

But Anduin pulled Medivh into him, hugging him. Though Khadgar's body was familiar, the way he held himself was not his lover, but his friend.

 

#

 

Anduin's face was unreadable, at first. Medivh didn't know what to expect when Anduin hauled him out of the chair–he doubted the man would hurt him, given the body he currently inhabited, but he made no move to defend himself either way. 

 

He certainly wasn't expecting a hug.

 

He stiffened in shock, but only for a moment before he wrapped his arms around his friend in return, blinking back tears. "I am sorry, Anduin," he whispered, his voice breaking on the words. "I am sorry. I tried to come back to you, in the end, but I was...too weak."

 

He remembered that moment, remembered Anduin calling out to him, begging him not to hurt Llane–and for just a moment, he got the most tenuous thread of control, which quickly snapped as soon as the demon turned full attention back to suppressing him.

 

#

 

Anduin didn't know what to say. He missed his friend, though, and despite everything he could not hate him. He had seen Khadgar, good, innocent Khadgar, nearly succumb to demons himself. He could not quite blame Medivh for it, not entirely. As he'd said, he had thought to protect them, and Anduin believed him.

 

Taria was smiling tearfully at them both. Over Medivh's shoulder Anduin nodded to her, an acknowledgement of the feelings they shared.

 

Forgiveness was a long way off, but that didn't mean they couldn't care for him as well.

 

"I am sorry you were alone," Anduin said finally. "And for the guilt you have to carry now."

 

He patted him on the back, and wished deeply it was his friend's proper form he saw. 

 

He turned to Taria. "He requested to visit Llane's grave, Taria. The decision should be yours."

 

There was barely a moment of silence before Taria nodded. "I will not go with you," she said. "But I think that it would be fitting."

 

#

 

Medivh pulled away from Anduin and nodded, squeezing Anduin's shoulder before stepping back.

 

"I should get caught up on your situation first. There will be time for mourning later, when I've found out where we stand," he said with a tight smile. "So tell me; you killed Gul'dan, defeated the demon. What happened after? Because the crisis is obviously not yet over."

 

He feared the worst; the unrelenting, unstoppable spread of the fel. He wasn't sure even he would have the knowledge and strength to confront that.

 

#

 

Again, Taria and her brother shared a look. The Queen sat back and ate her dinner as Anduin explained as best he could in between bites of his own food. 

 

"If that is not clear enough," Anduin finished ruefully, "We'll have to have Khadgar explain it in a note. My knowledge of the arcane is little, as you know."

 

#

 

Medivh looked more and more grim as Anduin explained. By the end of it, he was silent for a concerning amount of time, one fist pressed to his mouth as he thought.

 

An entire network of fel energy, reaching every known shore. It was enough to make him ill; but what made him feel worse was the fact that he knew exactly what needed to be done.

 

"It's very clear," he finally said, his voice low. "The good news is, I know exactly what must be done to shut down these fel lines. There is bad news, though."

 

He paused again, this time standing up to pace a bit as he spoke. "Anduin. You remember the spell Khadgar used to expel the fel from Karazhan, correct?" he asked, not waiting for an answer. Of course Anduin remembered. "That spell, at a nexus of power like the font in Karazhan was, can be _reversed_. It can be used to draw in the fel, into one place where it can be banished to the nether."

 

He stopped pacing and braced both hands on the back of his chair, looking at Anduin. "But the spell he did was _one font_ of fel. One source. A powerful one, but still minuscule compared to the power we're talking about here. In order to do this, he would need to tap into every last bit of power he has inherited as Guardian. Everything."

 

#

 

Anduin put down his fork. He looked from Medivh, with his too–serious expression on Khadgar's face, to Taria and back again.

 

Miniscule. 

 

The spell Khadgar did had weakened him past exhaustion. 

 

Anduin swallowed thickly.

 

He ran his hand through his hair.

 

Khadgar, of course, would agree to do it. Anything to save Azeroth. And isn't the what he would do, faced with the same choice?

 

He couldn't help looking at Medivh as if the man had killed Khadgar himself.

 

"He won't survive it," he said. 

 

Suddenly, he felt ill. He got up and made to go to the door. He needed fresh air.

 

#

 

Medivh reached over and took hold of Anduin's arm, stopping him before he could leave. "There's a chance," he said, giving Anduin an earnest look. "There is a chance that he would survive it. Were it any other mage, I would say there is no chance, but you have seen him take on a demon that can bring an army to its knees. With my guidance, and the powers he's inherited, he may yet live through it. And you know I would not tell you that unless it were true."

 

He didn't tell Anduin the chances. He knew he didn't have to; however much confidence he had in Khadgar's abilities, the odds were not in his favor.

 

But he believed that if anyone could pull this off and walk away from it, it was the young Guardian.

 

#

 

Anduin looked at Medivh incredulously. "A chance," he echoed. He gave a short laugh. Medivh had just confirmed that the likely outcome would be Khadgar's death.

 

"Is there no other way?" Taria asked, her voice hushed and her face immeasurably sad.

 

Anduin turned his desperate, horrified expression to her. "You," he swallowed, "You're acting like this is an option."

 

"Anduin," Taria's expression was more that of a Queen in that moment, stoic and firm, than he had ever seen it before. "Llane gave his life to stop this horror. You...you gave your life, if you have not forgotten. We are talking about the entire fate of Azeroth. And it will be Khadgar's choice to make."

 

"Elune is not going to resurrect him!" Anduin shrieked. He put a shaking hand over his face before looking back at Taria, then at Medivh. He hated that who he saw was his love in front of him. It was like Khadgar himself was talking so calmly to him about suicide. 

 

#

 

Medivh looked between Anduin and Taria with a bit of open surprise on his face. Well, there was his answer–to a lot of things, including some peculiar aches his body had that he'd been trying to ignore.

 

"You're in love with him," he said, and it was a statement, not a question–because it was obvious now. Anduin wouldn't react this way were it just a friend that they were talking about; sure, he would be upset, but he would also be supportive, knowing that the sacrifice in question was for a greater good than the individual.

 

This kind of panicked reaction was that of a lover, not a king.

 

"Well...that explains a lot," he said a little softer, giving Taria a raised eyebrow and the hint of a smile. Despite the circumstances, he was pleased that Anduin had found someone, even if it definitely hadn't been who he expected.

 

And now he understood why Anduin was so distressed at the thought of losing the young Guardian.

 

#

 

Anduin gave him a hysterical look.

 

After a long moment though, at an impasse between logic and emotion, he laughed. 

 

"Would you have guessed, that first day we came to Karazhan?"

 

He dragged a hand over his face, still wild with a burgeoning loss of hope.

 

Meanwhile, Taria smiled gently and knowingly at Medivh. "You should see them together,"Taria said conspiratorially. "They've terrorized the castle and the rumors in Stormwind would make even your ears burn." She paused, then added, "Stormwind and Darnassus, from what Thelae, our Darnassian emissary, has told me."

 

#

 

Medivh laughed–which was strange in many ways, it being not his own voice, and the fact that he wasn't used to laughing anymore.

 

"You've surprised me this time, you old dog," he said, thinking back to when he first saw Khadgar and Anduin together. Anduin tolerated the young man, at best. "Causing a scandal in Stormwind, taking a young lover, and a mage, no less; I'm impressed." 

 

He was looking at Anduin with mischief in his eyes. "So what changed?" he asked with a curious look. "You were barely tolerant of him, at the start."

 

#

 

Anduin himself wasn't sure he could explain it, and he wasn't sure he wanted to in front of Taria. It was one thing to bare his soul to Khadgar and another to be so vulnerable to people who already had a lifetime of his secrets.

 

He gave a quick, sharp smile to Medivh. "He helped me save the world from your demon. He was stronger than I thought."

 

He looked to Taria, who only raised an eyebrow at him with a smile. She was curious too, it seemed.

 

"There is no one else like him on Azeroth," Anduin began, clearing his throat. Then, feeling ridiculous for starting with that, he started again, in a low, fast rush.

 

"He's loyal, he's brave, he's kind, he's stubborn, and he makes me feel like I'm not alone in this Light–forsaken world."

 

And when he died to fix Medivh's mistakes, Anduin knew he would not be coming back from that battle.

 

He had promised Khadgar he would not leave his body while he was not in control of it, so he did the best he could to shut the others out, going to the wall and pressing his forehead against the cool stone.

 

#

 

Medivh's smile quickly turned into something more sad; it had been a long, long time since he'd heard Anduin speak about anyone like this. 

 

And he was asking him to risking losing all of that, all over again.

 

He stepped over to Anduin's side, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Anduin," he said, his voice soft. "You have my word that I will do everything in my power to make sure that Khadgar lives through this. With my knowledge and his natural skill and power, I believe he can."

 

It broke his heart to see Anduin like this, and it drowned him in guilt to know that he was the cause of it. Demon or no demon, the blame rested squarely on his shoulders for failing his duties as Guardian. 

 

#

 

Anduin clenched his eyes shut. He had no reason to doubt Medivh, and past experience–the notable exception aside–proved that Medivh usually kept his promises. He didn't make them lightly.

 

"What choice do any of us have?" Anduin's voice broke. "Of course he'll agree to this."

 

"He said there's a chance he'll survive this," Taria said. "Don't despair yet, brother."

 

#

 

"Let me write down a more detailed explanation for him. Then you can talk to him about it once he knows everything," Medivh said gently, looking to Taria. "I'll go to the library and do that, if it's alright."

 

He knew that once Khadgar read the explanation and the spell, he would understand exactly what he needed to do–and he would understand the sacrifice he was likely committing to.

 

Medivh would take his place in a heartbeat, if he could. 

 

#

 

Taria gave her permission, and Anduin recovered himself, pushing away from the wall. "I'll come," he said.

 

He walked after Medivh, watching Khadgar's body walk with a familiar gait that did not belong to the mage.

 

As Medivh got to work, Anduin leaned against a desk. "So what's it like, being dead?" He asked, his tone and smile not entirely unsympathetic. 

 

#

 

Medivh led the way to the library, still adjusting slightly to having a body at all, let alone the small differences from his previous one. He let out a small sigh of relief at the familiar surroundings, and immediately set to work with books and parchment.

 

"At first, it was...nothingness," he said as he worked, seemingly not surprised by the question. He figured someone would eventually ask. "Then I was aware, but...weak, so very weak. It was weeks before I could even comprehend anything around me."

 

He gave Anduin a sly smile. "Your Guardian saved me," he pointed out. "The fel was still there. I was fighting its influence, but before long, it would have destroyed me. When Khadgar expelled the fel from the tower, I was able to begin gaining the strength needed to eventually do this."

 

#

 

Anduin smiled back at him. "How did you know he'd be the next Guardian, even after renouncing the Kirin Tor? Because you can't tell me you weren't setting him up for this."

 

#

 

Medivh chuckled. "He could renounce the Kirin Tor, he could renounce magic altogether, he could decide to go live in Northrend; it wouldn't matter. The title of Guardian is something inherited. Once the font in Dalaran has chosen the next Guardian, it is more than fate," he explained.

 

He finished writing the spell with a flourish, and began adding a message–this one written in ancient Thalassian, so Khadgar would be able to read it, but to Anduin it would look like more of the same.

 

"I knew he'd been chosen, and once he renounced his vows, I knew he would one day be a great Guardian. The best of Guardians have never stayed under the thumb of the Kirin Tor. Protecting Azeroth...does not always abide by their politics," he said as he wrote.

 

#

 

Anduin came to stand behind Medivh. He put a hand on his shoulder. It was strange to feel the former Guardian's proper posture on Khadgar's thicker frame. 

 

However, there was a slight hunch, a stiffness, that belied Medivh's placidity.

 

He peered down at what Medivh was writing, but it was all in language he couldn't understand. 

 

"You were a good Guardian, " Anduin said with emphasis. "Medivh. Whatever the outcome of this, you have to know Khadgar is not the only friend I'll mourn."

 

He stepped back to browse the books Medivh was studying with disinterest, glancing up only briefly to see how Medivh would take his words. 

 

#

 

Medivh's quill stilled over the parchment, and he took in a deep breath. 

 

"We both know that I failed in every duty that a Guardian has to bear," he said softly, every word difficult. "Let's not pretend otherwise."

 

He finished the sentence he was working on, putting the quill back in the stand by the ink well. "That is all he will need in order to prepare. And I also wrote something that should help him with the nightmares."

 

#

 

Anduin contemplated Medivh's expression, so odd on Khadgar's face. 

 

"Oh, I blame you," Anduin agreed. "You killed Llane. You killed my son. And you're about to rip my heart right out of me." His voice was dangerously soft. "But the one thing I've learned through this is that these things are complicated. And here in my lover's body, you seem more like the friend I lost those six, seven years ago than I can remember."

 

He picked up a book disinterestedly and dropped it again. "Thank you," he finally said. "For helping him."

 

#

 

Medivh sat silent for a few long moments, the guilt twisting in him, making him feel almost ill. 

 

He didn't mention the fact that if Khadgar died while Medivh's spirit was still in him, his own spirit would likely be torn apart by the trauma. He didn't want any more of that loss heaped on Anduin.

 

As for himself, he found it to be a sort of poetic justice.

 

"As I said. I will do everything in my power to make sure he lives through this ordeal," he finally said, and then he reached for Khadgar.

 

Khadgar 'woke' with a start, bracing one hand on the table as he got past the initial shock of the switch. He glanced at the books and papers in front of him, then spotted Anduin. "Anduin...?"

 

#

 

Anduin blinked, the change from Medivh to Khadgar obvious but sudden.

 

Seeing Khadgar again brought Medivh's words to new and torturous clarity. He blinked back tears and stepped forward to put his hands on Khadgar's shoulders, massaging them so he could be close without Khadgar examining every nuance of his face.

 

It didn't help. After a moment of that he bent over him, burying his face in Khadgar's hair.

 

He took in a shuddering breath. "He's left notes for you," is all he could bring himself to say.

 

#

 

Khadgar could tell something was wrong the moment Anduin took hold of him. He looked down at the parchment in front of him and skimmed over the explanation and the spell, his stomach seeming to sink farther with every word.

 

And the last sentence just sealed his fears.

 

_This will likely be your final stand, young Guardian. Have courage, and do not falter._

 

So...this was it, then. He had the feeling that since Medivh had written that in Thalassian, that it was likely Anduin didn't know the full extent of the risk; but he probably had a good idea.

 

"I understand," he finally said, swallowing hard and nodding. "It...it has to be done at a nexus of power for the fel. So...the Dark Portal, then."

 

#

 

Anduin's fingers clenched into cloth and muscle. 

 

He wanted to beg him not to do this; he wanted to suggest running far, far away; but the fel threatened life itself. Thee would be no safe place on Azeroth for them, and they would only be remembered by their cowardice and failure.

 

This was their purpose, his and Khadgar's–there was not anyone else to lead the army or command the arcane.

 

"He said...there was a chance you would do this and survive," Anduin said, trying to give them both some hope. "But we have no choice but to try and save Azeroth. I will lead an army to protect you, like before."

 

#

 

Khadgar was glad that Medivh had given Anduin some hope. Things would be easier that way; well, easier in some ways.

 

"You know I'll try," he said, and then he thought of something, straightening up in his chair.

 

"We should contact Garona," he said, looking up at Anduin. "With my raven form, I could get in there and speak to her. Try to arrange a way to buy us time at the portal without casting suspicion on her."

 

#

 

"All right," Anduin said softly, with his eyes closed. He hugged Khadgar's back into his chest. "You tell me what you need, Khadgar, anything, and I'll make sure it's done."

 

He already felt like his heart was being ripped from him.

 

"I'll follow you," he said. And he meant then, in life, just as much as he meant straight into death as well, when the time came.

 

#

 

Khadgar closed his eyes for a few moments. He was trying not to think about it, trying not to think about the fact that he was willingly walking to what amounted to his own execution at twenty years old.

 

Tried not to think about the fact that it felt worse that he would be leaving Anduin behind.

 

He stood up and turned around, unable to help it anymore; he forgot about the plan for a moment, and just pulled Anduin into a tight hug. "I know you will," he said, the words shaky.

 

#

 

Anduin stroked the back of his head, then pulled back enough to kiss him. 

 

"All right," he said, mustering a smile. "I need to prepare our army. How soon do we go, and when do you want to travel to Garona?"

 

He was going to go at Khadgar's pace.

 

It felt weird, saying that name again, as if she were still a friend. But she had helped before, or at least had not interfered. It gave them a chance.

 

#

 

Khadgar took in a shaky breath, getting his bearings back; he needed to concentrate. Needed to focus on the task at hand, and not the outcome.

 

"I'll go now. I can portal closer to their camp and shapeshift once I get there," he said, knowing that they needed to act fast, before many of the rifts opened. Before the fel set in deep. "You can prepare the army while I'm gone. I shouldn't be long, depending on how easy it is to catch her alone."

 

#

 

Anduin took Khadgar's cheeks in between his palms and knocked their foreheads together. He kept his eyes on Khadgar's. 

 

"Be careful," he demanded.

 

He kissed him again, softly, and gave him a half–smile before stepping back to give him room to port.

 

#

 

Khadgar returned the kiss with a smile, and then he stepped back himself and took hold of Atiesh from where it sat against the wall. He swirled it over the ground around him, and then gathered up the energy, focusing on the location he had in mind. With one last smile at Anduin, he released the energy, and the world tilted.

 

He reappeared in a clearing among the trees, and almost immediately said the incantation to change to his raven form. Luckily, no one had seen him port in; he flew up into the trees and had a look around before he flew toward the camp.

 

The orcs were building spiked barriers around the edges of the camp facing the open field; he carefully noted the location of all the barriers as well as their weak points, and circled until he saw Garona, standing amongst a few other orcs over a set of scrolls. He waited until she straightened up and walked away toward one of the tents, and he steeled his nerves before swooping down. 

 

Shapeshifted or not, it was still nerve wracking to fly down into the middle of an orc camp. If he was discovered, he would be dead in moments.

 

He landed on top of the tent, and to his surprise, Garona looked right at him, her eyes widening and then narrowing in recognition; she knew. Somehow, she knew. He cawed and took off again, toward the trees this time, and when he glanced back he saw that she was following.

 

He landed in the clearing and made sure it was still clear before he transformed back, just as Garona entered the clearing. 

 

"How did you know?" he asked, and she smirked.

 

"Medivh could do the same, and I knew it wasn't him," she said. "Why are you here, Khadgar? You already defeated Gul'dan. Defeated his demon. I thought the humans would be reveling in their victories."

 

Khadgar explained to her about the fel network that had been activated upon their deaths. Her expression grew more and more grim as he spoke.

 

"So what do you plan to do?" she finally asked, and Khadgar's grip on Atiesh tightened.

 

"I can destroy the fel network, and banish the fel. But I need access to the Dark Portal to do it," he said, trying to sound confident. "We need your help, Garona. Our army was weakened in that last battle, as much as yours. I fear the death toll if we attempt a second attack."

 

Garona thought for a few long moments. "Llane told me...to bring peace between the orcs and the humans. It was why he asked me to kill him, rather than letting the warchief have that honor," she said, her voice breaking on the words, and Khadgar's eyes widened.

 

"So that's why you did it," he said, the pieces falling into place. "Llane wanted to put you in a position of power. He knew neither of you would survive the battle."

 

Garona nodded, a look of pure anguish on her face. "Yes," she said softly. "And there will be no peace until the fel is no longer the threat it is now."

 

"So you'll help."

 

There was a long pause before Garona spoke again. "I will help," she said. "I'll plant information outside camp that will cause our new warchief to believe an attack from the north is imminent. He will send the bulk of our forces to meet the threat. You'll have a day to strike once they are gone."

 

Khadgar felt relief flood through him. With this help, the soldiers–and Anduin–would surely be able to hold off the orcs long enough for him to do the spell. "Thank you, Garona," he said, and she smiled.

 

"I will help however I can without revealing my true allegiances."

 

Khadgar hesitated then, and gave her a pleading look. "Garona," he said, and then he swallowed hard, blinking back tears. "It's...it's likely I won't survive the spell that I'll be casting. Would you...look after Anduin, after? Make sure he gets out alive?" 

 

Garona frowned–and then she stepped forward and hugged him.

 

He was too shocked to reciprocate at first–after all, he hadn't imagined her to be the hugging type–but eventually, he returned the hug, if a bit hesitantly.

 

"I'll watch over him. You have my word," she said.

 

She stepped back, and Khadgar smiled. "Thank you," he said, and with that, he created a portal and directed the energy back toward Stormwind. He wasn't surprised when he appeared in an empty library; Anduin would be a while if he was working on getting the army ready for the attack. Khadgar grabbed the parchment Medivh had left and folded it up to tuck into his robes, and then he went looking for Anduin, finding him in the armory.

 

"Anduin," he said with a smile. "I have news. Come on."

 

He grabbed Anduin's hand and tugged him toward a side room where they could talk without being overheard.

 

#

 

"That was quick," Anduin said, giving Khadgar a kiss before he could start talking.

 

He felt nervous, for some reason, afraid of what Khadgar might tell him about Garona.

 

"Did you meet with her?" He asked.

 

#

 

"Yes. And she's going to help us," he said with a bit of excitement in his tone, because this was great news–it would mean so many less deaths. "She's going to plant a false lead, so the bulk of their forces will be sent out to the north. We have a good window to work with."

 

He hesitated a moment, some of the happiness of the news gone from his face. "And...she told me what happened with Llane, Anduin," he said, his shoulders slumping a bit. "He asked her to kill him. He...he knew that they weren't going to survive, and that the warchief would kill him for the honor. He told Garona to do it instead, so she could be in a position of power. He asked her to bring peace between orcs and humans."

 

He'd never really believed that Garona would kill Llane in cold blood. He couldn't bring himself to believe it, after seeing the way she interacted with them. And he didn't have any trouble believing that Llane would sacrifice himself to both make sure Garona would live, and that it would put her in a position to help his people later down the road.

 

#

 

Anduin rubbed his hands up and down Khadgar's arms, searching his eyes. "You believe her?" He asked. 

 

But of course, Khadgar did.

 

He shook his head in wonder.

 

Something in his heart shifted, making it lighter. He smiled. "She didn't betray us after all. Llane." His throat was tight. "My king. Of course." He shook his head against, in awe of who his friend had been and how noble. "My king."

 

#

 

Khadgar smiled sadly. "She didn't. I believe her," he said. "You know that's something Llane would have done, in those circumstances."

 

In fact, Anduin had made a similar choice once; the thought made Khadgar shudder.

 

"We'll need to attack from the west," he said, thinking back to all the things he'd seen at the camp. "They're building walls on that side, but they're not complete. The supports are weak. They'll fall easily if you have your men aim for those, so we don't get bottlenecked coming in."

 

#

 

"All right," Anduin nodded. He gave him a quick smile. "Why don't you go find Mustard and Thelae, unless you have something you need to prepare for. I'll brief our soldiers and I need to speak with my second-in-command. It will take a few hours, but I'll come find you when I'm done."

 

#

 

Khadgar nodded, leaning in to kiss Anduin. "I'll see you in a few hours, then," he said, and then he went to find Dion and Thelae. Unsurprisingly, he found them together, looking at maps of the area.

 

He quickly informed them of everything they needed to know, including the advantage they had and the barriers–he didn't tell them about the likely outcome of the spell he would be casting.

 

It was bad enough that Anduin suspected how little chance there was.

 

And perhaps it was a bit selfish, but Khadgar knew this was probably the last time he would see Stormwind, and he wanted to remember it fondly. He went up to the courtyard and sat down on the grass in an area that overlooked the rest of the city, the flickering light of lanterns shining in the streets and the merchants beginning to shut down their shops for the evening. They would be going home to their families, having dinner, going to sleep, getting ready for the next day, like any other.

 

Khadgar yearned, for just a moment, to have their life, even for one day. A day when there was no war to worry about, when he could just enjoy Anduin's company, with the threat of fel not hanging over every moment.

 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again, trying to memorize every detail of the city below. 

 

He just wished he could stay; he could honestly say this was his home now. His family was here. He belonged here.

 

#

 

Anduin finished with his work at the barracks and found bread, cheese, and fruit in the kitchens before going to ask the castle guards where Khadgar went. Used to his questions and worry by now, they were able to point him in the right direction quickly enough.

 

He took a moment when he got to the courtyards to watch Khadgar. The mage was sitting, watching the city below with a wistful exprssion. He looked so young in that moment that Anduin would have given anything to let him remain like that, whole and beautiful and at rest.

 

As it was, he came up beside him and sat down, knocking their shoulders together and setting the food down where they both could reach.

 

"Everything is ready," he said gently.

 

#

 

Khadgar smiled as Anduin sat down beside him, focusing for just a few seconds just on Anduin. He couldn't believe how lucky he was, to have Anduin like this; he couldn't believe that this amazing man would take interest in him. He didn't feel like anything special, Guardian or not. He certainly never would have imagined someone like Anduin Lothar wanting him, of all people.

 

"Just...a couple more minutes?" he asked softly, picking up a piece of bread and trying to eat some, even though the stress killed his appetite.

 

#

 

"All the time you want," Anduin smiled, and leaned back on his elbows. But he didn't look down at the city, he looked at Khadgar. He had long since memorized the lines of his face, the curve of his lips, the slope of his nose, every whisker on his face. He wondered if the patches would grow in as Khadgar got older, or if that was just the beard Khadgar was stuck with. He liked it, in any case–he liked every quirk, every imperfection and every perfection too.

 

He reached over and found Khadgar's hand on the grass.

 

"You learn to eat no matter how nervous you are, eventually, " he commented softly, then hit his own stomach. "These bodies of ours are our weapons, and like a blade they need care."

 

But Khadgar likely didn't need his advice. 

 

He had known this day would come, but it didn't make it easier. 

 

He hoped to the Light that Medivh had been right about there being a chance of Khadgar getting through this alive, but he had always been a pragmatist. Khadgar didn't think he would, going by his demeanor. Anduin squeezed his finger, then transferred his arm to Khadgar's shoulders, tugging him into his side.

 

"Maybe in another lifetime," he murmured, then looked down at Khadgar with a grin, "We'll just be farmers."

 

#

 

Khadgar couldn't help but laugh. "Farmers, huh?" he asked with a grin, leaning into Anduin's embrace.

 

"My parents lived on the coast. Dad was a fisherman, probably my siblings, too," he pointed out, and then he laughed. "It's...actually kind of funny, since I can't even swim. Not something you learn in a city floating above the clouds. He'd probably be appalled."

 

It was nice to relax like this, even if it was just the obvious calm before the storm.

 

#

 

"Speaking of being appalled," Anduin said with raised eyebrows. "You let me take you on an ocean voyage without telling me you couldn't swim?"

 

He shook his head, knowing his next words were dreams only. "When we get back, I'll teach you."

 

#

 

"If the ship was going to sink in the middle of an ocean, I doubt my ability to swim or not would make much difference," Khadgar pointed out with a huff of laughter. He swallowed hard and looked over at Anduin with a sad smile.

 

"I'll hold you to that, you know."

 

#

 

Anduin let go of pretenses and just collapsed against him, kissing Khadgar tenderly, lovingly. It wasn't urgent, or asking for more, but it was deep, and thorough. He put a hand at the base of Khadgar's neck, moving his fingers through the smalk, soft hairs he found there.

 

"Then we'll go over Stranglethorn, like we'd talked about," Anduin breathed against his lips. "You can study Zandalari scripts, and I'll go hunting. It will be our first vacation."

 

#

 

Khadgar smiled into the kiss, burying his own hand in Anduin's hair as he returned it with equal fervor. He wanted that, wanted to return here victorious, wanted so much to have those inevitably awful swimming lessons and that amazing vacation; it was like a physical ache in his chest knowing that every word was a pipe dream.

 

He pressed their foreheads together, brown eyes meeting blue. "Deal," he said, trying to bolster his confidence. Maybe he could do this. Maybe he could pull off the impossible, like he'd done before, and somehow live through it.

 

He could at least tell himself it was possible. He could at least _try._

 

"I love you."

 

#

 

Anduin smiled at him. "I love you, Khadgar," he said.

 

He loved him so much that it filled him. 

 

And without him? There would be nothing left.

 

But for now, he would gladly dream together, while they had the chance.

 

#

 

They didn't get much longer of a reprieve. Khadgar heard footsteps and pulled away, looking back to see Dion approaching them.

 

"Guardian, Regent; the troops are ready to move on your command, and your Nightsabers are ready," he said, and Khadgar felt his stomach flip–flop. 

 

They couldn't put this off any longer.

 

#

 

Anduin nodded at the guard. "Thank you, Dion."

 

And now he had to be the Regent for his soldiers, and strong for Khadgar. The Guardian was sacrificing everything for this world, and he was doing so willingly.

 

He leaned in close to Khadgar's ear, pitching his voice so only he could hear, while his heart overflowed. "I am so proud of you," he whispered fiercely, then clapped the mage on the shoulder.

 

Anduin got to his feet, then helped Khadgar up, using their clasped hands to tug him into one last hug.

 

He turned back to Dion, nodding again.

 

They followed him back to where the troops were gathered, and Taria was waiting.

 

Anduin hugged her, breaking protocol and not giving a damn about it. "I love you," he whispered to her.

 

He blessed her that she did not make him make her any false promises, this time. She held his eyes and stroked his cheek with one thumb, then moved her gaze between both him and Khadgar.

 

"You both have made me so proud," she said. "And Azeroth itself owes you its survival. Fight well."

 

#  


 

Khadgar was briefly sent back to that moment, kneeling in the font in Karazhan, when Anduin had said those same words.

 

It was the first time anyone had told him that; it meant more than Anduin could ever know.

 

He followed as Anduin led the way to where the troops waited, and he felt his heart break as he saw Taria standing there waiting for them; he realized that this was probably the last time he'd ever see her. He gave her the best smile he could manage.

 

"Thank you, Lady Taria. For treating me as one of your own," he said softly. It meant the world to him that she'd always treated him as family, through the good times and the bad; she and Anduin were his family now, when he'd had none before.

 

He turned and patted his Nightsaber on the head before mounting it, taking the reins in hand with practiced ease; it had taken a while, but he was finally comfortable on his new mount.

 

#

 

Anduin gave his Nightsaber a scratch behind the ears, then led the troops out of Stormwind.

 

His heart swelled with pride–not only for Khadgar, but also for the brave men and women willing to follow him and willing to sacrifice their very lives for Stormwind and the Alliance. 

 

So despite the dread in his gut, he rode tall, with his chin up, and a determined, ferocious expression on his face. 

 

If this war would take their lives, it would not be without a fight.

 

It took far too short a journey to get to the brink of the enemy camp. Anduin halted their army, and turned to Khadgar. Everything from then on out would be under his command.

 

#

 

Khadgar, at first, felt the dread grow in him as they got closer and closer to camp, and as he went over and over the spell in his head. He would have one shot at this–but whether or not he succeeded, his own outcome likely wouldn't change.

 

So he had to do this for everyone else. To make sure Anduin got home alive. 

 

Once they reached camp, though, he'd had time to steel himself against the task ahead. He confidently looked over the orc camp, noticing how few orcs there were compared to the last time he was here; Garona had followed through on her word, then.

 

"The barriers they're building need to be taken down. The supports are still weak; once the front line gets past the entrance, they can easily take them down," he said, his Nightsaber restless underneath him. "I'm going to ride around and come at the Dark Portal from the south, while their attention is on you. They won't notice one rider going behind their lines."

 

#

 

"One rider," Anduin frowned. "No. I thought I was going with you. You need someone to keep them off your back while you cast, Guardian."

 

Not spell-chucker, not in front of his soldiers, but he hoped Khadgar could read his inflection well enough.

 

#

 

Khadgar hesitated, glancing back at the soldiers behind them–and Dion caught his eye and nodded, Thelae sitting tall on her mount to his right. He was hesitant to leave the men without their king, but–

 

He had to have faith in them. 

 

"You're the king. If you want to stay by my side, I won't turn you away," Khadgar said with a smirk in Anduin's direction. They were King and Guardian right now, in front of these men who needed leaders–but in moments, when they were on their own again, they would be both less and more than that.

 

#

 

Anduin nodded at both Thelae and Dion.

 

"I ride with the Guardian," he called to the army, his army, spread out before them. He rode his Nightsaber across the front of the ranks and back again as he spoke."As you know, this is about more than blood and bone today. We can defeat the Horde armies, and we will. But today we ride for Azeroth itself. I go to protect the Guardian, but you will be protecting us with the might of Stormwind itself. Keep them occupied. Keep them away from the gate. And ride with Azeroth in your hearts." Anduin's voice rose. "I am proud of each and every one of you. I am proud to be your regent. Ride and fight with Stormwind in your hearts!"

 

He raised his sword, Llane's sword, in the air. 

 

"For the Alliance!"

 

His army roared back at him, and his face broke into a feral grin.

 

As his army surged forward, Anduin spurred his Nightsaber into line beside Khadgar. His expression gentled, but was no less determined as he nodded his readiness.

 

#

 

Khadgar kicked his Nightsaber into action, and the big cat sprung forward into the clearing. He skirted the front lines to the side and into another stand of trees, knowing that Anduin was right with him.

 

"I'll need about a minute. Maybe a little more," he called to him. "I'll be able to fend off a couple just from the energy of the spell, so if one or two get past you, don't panic."

 

There would be a lot of energy at work in this spell. More than he'd ever dealt with before. More, maybe, than any living mage had handled at once. Even a tendril of that directed toward an enemy would kill them instantly, but he couldn't afford to lose focus, and he would rather not spare any of the energy outside of the main spell, if he could help it.

 

#

 

"All right," Anduin said.

 

They were out of time.

 

"Khadgar. I will never be far from you."

 

He met Khadgar's dear, deep brown eyes and smiled at him, though it felt more filled with sadness than anything else.

 

And then he burst from the trees. Takishna knocked the first Orc over, sinking her claws into her tough hide. Anduin beheaded her and moved on to the next.

 

And so it went. 

 

He kept a tight circumference around Khadgar, and Orcs fell around him.

 

#

 

Khadgar followed Anduin out of the trees, trying to use his magic sparingly, only when absolutely necessary to help clear their path. They didn't encounter much resistance; the orcs were fewer in number than before, and assumed the humans were here to thin their numbers even more and perhaps take down their new warchief. They didn't suspect the portal was the target.

 

Khadgar pulled his mount to a stop at the base of the massive structure, then grabbed a rock from a nearby fire pit, one covered in ashes and soot. It would do for the task; he took the steps two at a time, and then knelt down and began drawing the necessary sigils in a circle around himself. He could hear the sounds of battle, far too close for his taste, and the sounds of death and steel hitting steel–and he knew that the longer he took, the more of his people would fall.

 

He took a deep breath, looked up at Anduin one last time, and then started the incantation.

 

" _Anar'alah, an shar diel dor t'ase'mushal_ ," he said, each word said with strength and confidence, his eyes lighting up with the blue light of arcane as he stood. His hands lit up next, and then the runes and a circle of light flared to life beneath him. " _An lo dor ban'dinoriel, dor turus'il'amare, dor thalas'din_."

 

He could already feel the spell beginning to take hold of him. He was more of a guide for the energy, in this case; directing it, controlling its path, and gathering it.

 

It would be attempting to banish it to the nether that would end him.

 

#

 

A giant, meaty hand grabbed Anduin and threw him from his Nightsaber just as he heard Khadgar start up the incantation. His shoulder hit the dusty, rocky ground painfully, but he managed to roll to one side just before the mace slammed into the earth where his head had been. He leapt into a crouch, only to be forced into another roll the avoid being pulverized. 

 

The Orc grinned at him around one broken and one whole tusk, and was about to swing again when suddenly Takishna sank her fangs into his skull, almost hugging him with her powerful paws.

 

It was enough of a distraction that Anduin was able to slice open the Orc's stomach. 

 

"Good girl!" He called to her, as he turned to check on Khadgar.

 

Khadgar was glowing brightly, beautifully. 

 

This was it, then. 

 

He forced himself to focus. The Orcs were thinning around them, but there were more than enough to pose a threat.

 

Anduin launched himself back into the fight.

 

#

 

Khadgar felt it when the fel began pouring in; it was pain, pain unlike anything he'd ever felt before, leagues worse than when he'd been in that font fighting the demon in Medivh. His legs nearly buckled but he managed to stay on his feet, barely, the glow around him rapidly turning green as he gathered the fel to him and tried to hold it in place. It was like trying to hold back a storm–tossed ocean with just his hands.

 

_You can do this. You have to do this. Medivh believed you can_ , he thought, the fel licking through his veins like fire, his body becoming engulfed in it. He'd expected this, but it was one thing to expect it, and another thing entirely to keep spellcasting through it; with the fel came the lives of those it had taken, entire worlds of people, worlds of knowledge, the power of hundreds of thousands of demons, and he was somehow hearing a hundred languages and understanding every single one.

 

_I can't._

 

_I can't do it._

 

He suddenly felt a surge of strength from within, and a familiar voice rang through his mind. **_Unlock the barriers, Khadgar. One at a time,_** Medivh told him, and Khadgar didn't question the hows and whys–he immediately began taking down those barriers in his mind, one at a time, each time he thought he might be overtaken by the fel. With every new barrier down came the unlocked power of a Guardian before him, and he closed his eyes for a few moments–and when he opened them again, they were the bright blue of arcane.

 

But the fel was still flooding him, still searing at him inside and out, and he had no more barriers to pull down. He had nothing left. The only thing keeping him on his feet was the energy Medivh was providing him, trying to hold together a physical form against forces that should be tearing him apart.

 

He could feel himself shutting down. He could feel his heart skipping beats entirely, signaling that he couldn't take any more.

 

He was dying, and the spell wasn't done.

 

**_Just a little longer, young Guardian. Then it will be over. Just keep focusing, and I'll sustain you through to the end_** **,** Medivh said, and Khadgar wanted to sob, wanted to collapse, but he couldn't. He had such a tenuous grip on the fel as it was.

 

He felt the last of it enter the circle, and he knew this was it. One more step, and the spell would be done.

 

_Goodbye, Anduin._

 

He reached for the nether, and at the same time, he suddenly felt Medivh reach out for him. The fel green around him turned to gold, and he panicked, the light pulsing under him.

 

_Medivh, what are you doing?!_

 

**_I've lived and died, Khadgar. It's your turn to live. This world yet needs you. He needs you_**.

 

_No, Medivh, don't–_

 

There was a sudden blast of golden light as the fel was forced into the nether and the portal beneath sealed, and a low tone thumped through the air, intense enough to knock some from their feet.

 

Khadgar dropped to his knees, and at the same time he felt his heart stop beating, Medivh seized control.

 

Khadgar plunged into nothingness as his body fell to the ground, dead.

 

#

 

Anduin felt it, when the world started to break apart; the rush of electricity through the air, the shift in the energy that tied everything together. Takishna growled, hackles raised, and he turned to see Khadgar, blinding, green and blue and Anduin wasn't sure which was winning.

 

"You can do this," Anduin cried out, his voice raw, but he was sure he couldn't reach Khadgar now.

 

He spun out of reach of the last Orc in their vicinity as he tried to take advantage of Anduin's distraction, to his folly. Anduin ran him through from the back, and slit his throat when Takishna attacked from the front.

 

As there was another surge of magic, though, even his well-trained, battle-hardened cat hissed and ran, disappearing into the trees.

 

Anduin could not blame her. 

 

Just as he though that perhaps the fel was winning, his heart tumultuous and afraid, the light abruptly turned to gold. Just as it had done that day in the tower, when Khadgar had defeated the demon in Medivh and cleansed Karazhan. 

 

All at once, hope flooded him, and he took a step forward.

 

Then, though. Then. A noise unlike anything he'd ever heard sent a vibration through the ground, knocking him over. He sprang back to his feet to find the mage again.

 

The light was fading around him.

 

Khadgar fell to his knees, and toppled.

 

Anduin sprinted forward. He slid into the ground, knees buckling to land hard beside Khadgar. Grabbing his shoulders in shaking hands, he turned him over, his throat too tight to breathe, let alone speak.

 

Khadgar's head lulled. Anduin ran his fingers over his body, pressing them to every pulse point. 

 

All were still and silent.

 

His breath came out all at once in a gasping sob.

 

"No." He lay Khadgar down and pressed at his heart, then when that didn't work, pressed their mouths together, trying to resuscitate him with his breath. 

 

Khadgar, bright, lively, loving Khadgar, remained still and pale. Anduin gathered him again into his lap, rocking them both. "No!" He shrieked. 

 

He'd known. He'd known before they came.

 

But whatever Khadgar had done, it had worked. The fel no longer infected Azeroth.

 

Anduin kissed Khadgar's lifeless lips, and gently set him down. Bracing himself unsteadily on his sword, he got to his feet. 

 

In the distance, Stormwind's army was still fighting.

 

Anduin picked Khadgar up, and carried him away to the line of trees. Gently, he set him on the grass. A better resting place than a battlefield. 

 

He had nothing left inside him. Nothing left to give. He wasn't even sure what he felt in that moment was sadness. 

 

"I will see you soon," Anduin said carefully to Khadgar.

 

With slow steps that soon gave way to a faster, purposeful jog, he ran back toward the battle.

 

Without caring about defending himself, making no move to block any attacks, he savagely went after any Orc he could. He fought like a wild animal.

 

"Kill me!" He screamed. "Come on, which one of you? Kill me!"

 

He was sliced in the arm. Almost gratefully, he turned, spreading his arms wide, opening his body for the death blow.

 

When suddenly, impossibly, the Orc's attack was fended off, and he felt himself being torn away from the fray.

 

"Stop. Stop!" He shouted.

 

"Lothar. Lothar." He struggled, then realized the female voice was familiar. He looked up through a film of tears. 

 

Garona Halforcen looked down at him, her grip unbreakable. "Lothar," she said. "Stop."

 

#

 

Garona knew the moment Khadgar fell just what was going to happen. 

 

She sprinted across the battlefield, and was just in time to prevent the orc from slicing Lothar in two; and after speaking, she fixed Lothar with a firm look.

 

"Is this what he would have wanted for you?" she asked in a fury. "Would he want your sister to be raising her children alone?"

 

She had to pause to fend off another attack, keeping yet another orc from striking while Lothar was obviously out of his right mind. She didn't know what he was going through; it had to be far worse than even what she'd gone through, having to kill her friend on the battlefield–but she'd promised Khadgar she would look out for Lothar if the mage didn't survive the spell. And she was going to do that, whatever it took.

 

At the same time, Khadgar was fighting his way back from endless void. He could feel the nether pulling at him, but he also somehow knew that if he could find his way back, this wasn't over. Medivh had cast him aside, taken the blow for him, and he knew he had very little time left before there wouldn't be any way back.

 

He thought of Anduin, and reached desperately for the first thin thread of light he saw.

 

And suddenly, he felt his heart start beating, and his eyes glowed gold, then blue as he opened them. He gasped for air, his whole body trembling, aching like he'd been beaten by an orc hammer.

 

#

 

Anduin stared at Garona, dazed, as amazingly she protected him against her own people.

 

"It doesn't matter what he wanted," he said numbly. He's dead."

 

He watched her for a while longer, not helping, not moving. 

 

She really hadn't betrayed them. 

 

If he could feel anything, he would have been glad.

 

"Kill me," he finally asked her. "If you won't let them do it. Haven't I given enough? Let me be with him. Let the Light take me too. It will only make your people more loyal to you. And then maybe you and Taria can bring peace to this world." 

 

#

 

Garona glared at him, her face smeared with blood. "How _dare_ you," she said, her green eyes dark. "How dare you belittle his wishes so easily. He lived for you. He _died_ for you."

 

She grabbed onto his shoulder firmly, making him look her in the eye. "The last thing he ever said to me was that he wanted me to get you away from this battlefield safely if he should fall. And I _will_ respect his wishes. Your task here is done; tell your men to retreat before more of them die, and then lead them back to Stormwind. You have to _live_ , Lothar."

 

She had to get through to him, somehow. Hopefully the fact that one of Khadgar's last requests was that Lothar be kept safe would be enough to snap him out of this.

 

Khadgar coughed as he tried to drag air into lungs that hadn't been used in minutes, and he rolled over onto his stomach to try and push himself up. His arms wouldn't hold any weight; he collapsed back down with a sob at the pain and weakness.

 

_Get up. Get up, you need to find Anduin_ , he thought, not sure where he was or how he got here, but knowing that he needed to find Anduin. He didn't care that the spell worked, didn't care that the sounds of battle still rang in the air; he'd been lost in the void, he was in pain and weak beyond reason, and he needed Anduin.

 

#

 

Before more of his men died.

 

"He wouldn't have," Anduin swallowed. "He wouldn't have."

 

But he held her gaze, then nodded. "I'll get my men to safety," he said.

 

He would not promise his own. 

 

He paused. "Thank you, Garona," he said.

 

Steeling himself, he fought his way back through the battle, until he got to a soldier with a horse. Recognizing his liege, the man was hauling him up before he could even ask.

 

Raising his sword high, though his arm felt weak, he hollered out the order to retreat.

 

"We have to go back," Anduin told the soldier. "I have to retrieve..." He couldn't finish his sentence.

 

There was another soldier beside him. "Please, hold up," he called when they were from enough away to do so safely.

 

The soldier switched mounts. He nodded at the two of them on the other steed. 

 

"Sir, where are you going?"

 

"Get this army back to Stormwind," he commanded.

 

"Sir!"

 

He whirled around despite their protests, and went charging back to find Khadgar's body.

 

Khadgar was lying where he left him. He had hoped, illogically, unreasonably, that things would be different. That Khadgar would no longer be gone.

 

That a miracle would have happened in his absence.

 

He had hoped to die a warrior's death.

 

His own blade would have to be good enough.

 

He hopped off his mount.

 

He walked toward Khadgar, and knelt by his side.

 

"Garona found me and told me what you said," he whispered, as if he could hear him. "Not fair, spell-chucker."

 

He lifted his sword. "I'll see you in a heartbeat, my love."

 

#

 

Khadgar dropped back onto his back in the grass and closed his eyes. He was too dizzy, too weak, too beaten down to keep trying to move. He just...needed a few minutes. Or a few hours, at this rate.

 

He dreaded the worst; that Anduin had fallen in battle, and there was little he could do about it.

 

He drifted in and out of consciousness, and didn't hear the footsteps come to his side. It took him a few moments to register Anduin's voice, and relief flooded through him–until those words registered.

 

He opened his eyes, and barely managed to lift his hand up and grab right onto the blade before Anduin could start to swing it down. "D–Don't," he managed, the word choked with pain and exhaustion; he could barely feel the bite of the blade against his palm, or the warm blood dripping down his wrist. "Don't even t–think about it."

 

That really hurt. Perhaps grabbing onto the blade of the sword wasn't the best way to stop Anduin–but it wasn't like he had any mana to spare for casting a shield over him.

 

#

 

Anduin choked, the noise that came from his throat a whimper.

 

It was impossible, but the blood dripping down his blade was a brilliant, living red.

 

"Khadgar?" He rasped brokenly.

 

He threw down his sword, and yanked Khadgar to him. He pressed his lips to Khadgar's mouth, but everywhere else, too; his cheeks, his forehead, his chin, his temples, his eyelids.

 

"You. Were. Dead." He said in between kisses. "How?"

 

Anduin brushed Khadgar's hair from his forehead, staring into his eyes, still a warm, familiar brown, in wonder.

 

"I had given up," he confessed in a rough whisper. "I thought you were gone. And I would have followed you, if not for Garona."

 

What he had almost done to Khadgar turned his stomach. 

 

#

 

Khadgar tried to keep up with the affection being showered on him, but it was hard when he still felt like he'd had most of the life sucked out of him. Literally. He returned the kiss to his lips as best he could, grabbing onto Anduin's armor and holding tight, bright red blood smearing across it and mixing with the orc blood.

 

"I'm g–glad she listened," he said when Anduin finally gave him a chance to speak. He managed a smile, but it quickly disappeared when he remembered what happened.

 

Medivh.

 

He stopped breathing for a moment. He reached out in his mind for that familiar presence, and–

 

Nothing.

 

He was gone.

 

His face fell. "Medivh," he said, the word coming out a half sob. "He took c–control from me at the last second. He used himself as...as a shield between the backlash of t–the spell and my own spirit. He's...Anduin, he's gone..."

 

He couldn't even try to hold back the tears that spilled down his cheeks as he clung to Anduin with shaking hands. Medivh's spirit would have been destroyed by that, just as Khadgar's would have been.

 

Medivh had saved his life by destroying his own spirit.

 

#

 

Anduin flinched.

 

He had known, though, that it was too much to ask that Medivh truly returned to them, too.

 

It was fitting, though. All of this, all for of the horrors brought to Azeroth, all of the deaths, were because of Medivh. It should have been him and not Khadgar who died to end it.

 

Anduin continued stoking Khadgar's head. "Shh. Shh," he murmured. "Khadgar. Later. We'd already lost him. He was already dead. We were lucky to even have him back to help you end this. He could nor have stayed in your body."

 

#

 

Khadgar had been ready to die. He'd been resigned to it, especially at the end, when he felt his body beginning to give out on him. The fact that Medivh stepped in and took the responsibility from him was hard to accept–that Khadgar had been the one to kill him the first time, and then also responsible for losing him yet again.

 

"I'm sorry," he said, the words shaky as he leaned on Anduin to stay upright at all. "I'm s–sorry, I wasn't...strong enough to save him too. I couldn't even save _myself_."

 

One good thing had come out of this, though–the spell had worked. He could feel no trace of the fel around them–and while some of the orc warlocks would still wield it, and there may be small pockets here and there, it was nothing like the threat it once was.

 

"M'so tired," he managed, because he figured he'd better give fair warning, at least–he felt like he could pass out at any second. Though the ache in his body and the sharp sting in the palm of his hand were keeping him awake, for now.

 

#

 

"No protesting," Anduin said shortly, tempered with a brief smile. He retrieved his sword then sheathed it before getting his arms under Khadgar and lifting him onto the horse.

 

He swung himself up behind him. "Do not feel guilty for Medivh's sacrifice," Anduin said softly. "He brought this into the world. Today he redeemed himself. I am glad to be able to mourn my friend, instead of regret what he had turned into. And I know Medivh would feel the same. He came here for the soul purpose of atoning. He has fulfilled his duties as Guardian at last."

 

Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps on leaves.

 

Anduin drew his sword.

 

A moment later, Takishna emerged from the trees.

 

"Takishna!" Anduin cried happily.

 

The giant cat fell in line with the horse, and Anduin spurred them on their way toward home, toward Stormwind.

 

#

 

Khadgar didn't bother trying to protest. As it was, he was too tired and weak to even keep his eyes open; the trip home to Stormwind was spent mostly unconscious on his part, much to the dismay of Dion and Thelae.

 

But the times he did wake, Anduin was always there, and that was more than enough to let him know that he was _safe_.

 

As they approached the gates of Stormwind, Khadgar started to come around again, albeit slowly. He was awake enough to hear Dion when he urged his horse forward to speak to Anduin. 

 

"Should I ride ahead and have the healers prepare for you two? You both need healing," he said, which was funny coming from someone riding with one hand on the reins, and the other arm bound up in a makeshift sling.

 

#

 

"Yes, thank you, Dion," Anduin said, then added, "And have them look after you as well!"

 

He patted his horse's shoulder, and urged it on through the city.

 

When they got to the Cathedral, he was sure he saw a healer or two exchange rolled eyes as they hurried forward to help.

 

He hopped off and brought Khadgar down gently. Not willing to let the healers take him, he carried him into the too-familiar recovery room. He refused to let them hustle him out. 

 

He told by the wall and watched them work on Khadgar until a younger healer came over to him. "Your arm, my Lord," she prompted. 

 

With a start, he became aware that his arm was still bleeding, and his shoulder still ached, along with countless other wounds from the battle. Dutifully, he nodded at her and removed his armor so she could help him.

 

He kept an anxious eye on Khadgar the whole while.

 

"Will he be all right?" He called.

 

#

 

Khadgar breathed a sigh of relief as the healer set to work on his hand, inspecting it carefully before holding her own hand over the wound. "What did you do, try to stop a sword with your hand?" she asked in a joking tone, and Khadgar blushed a little.

 

"Um. Well...yeah," he said, and the healer did a double take, but continued healing the cut.

 

The healer working on Anduin gave him a reassuring smile. "I'll have Elise come speak to you when she's finished looking him over, alright?" she said, continuing to go over each wound and heal it carefully. 

 

When Elise finished with Khadgar, she left him to rest and went to Anduin. "He will be fine, Regent. I'm afraid there's not much we can do for him aside from giving him time to rest; he's suffering from severe exhaustion. I healed what I could."

 

#

 

Anduin relaxed, finally. He gave her a quick smile.

 

Exhaustion and rest were things he was used to dealing with when it came to the Guardian.

 

He closed his eyes, and gave thanks to the Light. It might have been the most sincere prayer he had made since Calla had died, all those years ago.

 

The healers brought a chair, and he settled into an all–too familiar position beside Khadgar. He bent over and kissed the mage's forehead.

 

"You are incredible," Anduin whispered.

 

He allowed himself a few moments longer to dwell on the wonder that Khadgar had survived.

 

"I need to go visit Taria," he said finally. "Will you be all right?"

 

#

 

Khadgar laughed. "I don't feel incredible," he muttered, though he managed a smile. He still had moments where he wondered if this was all some drawn–out hallucination, that he might actually be dead after all, lying cold on that portal.

 

But then he heard Anduin's voice, and he knew he couldn't dream that warmth, that comfort.

 

"I'll be fine. Go see your sister," he said, reaching over to squeeze Anduin's hand. "You would get bored here, anyway."

 

#

 

"No," Anduin said with a pointed look at Khadgar. "I would not." He ruffled his hair gently. "I'll be back soon enough, don't worry."

 

Taria was overjoyed when he saw her, despite the long looks she gave his bloodstained and ripped clothes. He left out several key points about how he spent the nightmarish moments after Khadgar's near-death, but he made sure to include everything he could about Garona. 

 

Taria's countenance lightened further. 

 

"I feel like another friend has come back to us," she said. "Another who we thought was lost."

 

Anduin had to concur. 

 

After that, he had a speech to give to the city, which he did amongst much cheering and fanfare. Khadgar should have been there, since he was the focus of all of it, but he made sure Stormwind knew what the Guardian had done not just for the Alliance, but for Azeroth.

 

And finally, finally, he was allowed back by Khadgar's side.

 

Where he belonged. 

 

"Shove over," he told his spell–checker.

 

He lay down beside him with a grateful smile, and let himself fall asleep, their shoulders pressed comfortingly together.

 

#

 

Khadgar recovered fast, for someone who'd been dead for minutes at a time; it wasn't long before he was up and testing both his limits and Anduin's and Dion's patience. Though it was nice that there wasn't any immediate crisis to be found–there were the remaining orcs to deal with, as well as the Dark Iron dwarves, but those seemed trivial compared to the foes they'd faced before. 

 

So Khadgar was caught off guard when he and Anduin were just finishing up a meal when there was a sudden glow and a whoosh, and a woman in a long cloak appeared in the dining room. Her face was lined with age, but she was still beautiful–and Khadgar immediately remembered who this was.

 

"Aegwynn...?" he said, standing up in shock. "What are you–?"

 

"You two," she said with a sly smile. "Come with me. In the circle, hurry now."

 

#

 

Anduin frowned. He looked between Khadgar and Aegwynn, but saw no reason not to comply.

 

He had been in too many situations where 'hurry now' was very literal. 

 

So he made no move to question her as he obeyed her request, albeit suspiciously. 

 

 

 

#

 

Khadgar wasn't about to second guess this legend of a woman. He stepped into the circle, and with a whispered incantation, she transported them.

 

When they reappeared, it was in the living room of a normal house–there was a fireplace, all the furniture of an average house, and outside a couple of cows grazed in the afternoon sun. Khadgar gave Aegwynn a confused look, but she just smiled and nodded toward the stairs.

 

"Upstairs," was all she said, and Khadgar only hesitated a moment and gave Anduin an unsure glance before he stepped toward the stairs. At the top was a couple of bedrooms, and in the one right across the hall from the stairs, he could see a figure standing by the window.

 

A very familiar figure.

 

Upon hearing their footsteps, the figure turned, and Khadgar's breath caught.

 

" _Medivh_?"

 

Medivh chuckled and glanced down at himself. "It seems so," he said, and then he looked up at them with a smile. "It's nice to see you two made it out of there in one piece, my friends."

 

#

 

Anduin braced himself against the wall.

 

He would have thought he was hallucinating, except for Khadgar's surprised gasp.

 

He stood just looking at him for far too long. Medivh's expression began to falter, and that was what jolted Anduin into motion.

 

He crossed the room in three long strides, gripped the slighter man by the shoulders, send pulled him into a tight, joyful hug.

 

"Thank you," he said. "Thank you for saving him. Thank you for saving Azeroth. And thank you," he paused, his voice gentling, "For coming back to me, old friend." He stepped back so he could let his gaze rake over his friend's face.

 

He looked back at Khadgar in wonder, making sure it was real, before turning back to Medivh.

 

"How?"

 

#

 

"Your young Guardian did most of the heavy lifting. I simply guided him through it," Medivh pointed out with a wink in Khadgar's direction as he returned Anduin's hug. Khadgar snorted in disbelief.

 

"Oh, yeah, you only saved my life. Not a big deal," he said, his tone one of playful sarcasm. Medivh took it in stride, stepping back as well with his hands clasped on Anduin's shoulders.

 

"My mother...felt that I deserved another chance at life," he said, though he didn't sound so sure himself. As if he wasn't sure that he deserved that chance, or that he could get it right this time around. "Turns out having a mother who is well acquainted with both the arcane and the Twisting Nether results in her getting her way, much of the time."

 

Khadgar somehow wasn't surprised; if there was anyone who he expected to be able to reach across the chasm of life and death, it would be Aegwynn.

 

#

 

Anduin glanced over at Khadgar, not shocked, exactly, but needing some confirmation that he wasn't the only one unsettled by that.

 

He turned back to Medivh. "Well, that's something," he said, swallowing hard. 

 

He looked Medivh up and down. "Come to the castle with us, Medivh. Taria will be overjoyed to see you." 

 

He had plans already that the former Guardian should stay there with them as well, but he knew his friend might be overwhelmed by the offer if he made it too fast.

 

"It is good to see you," Anduin said earnestly. 

 

Light knew he'd been trying for the better part of a decade. The color was back in Medivh's cheeks, and there was no longer the sense he was hiding within himself or suffering. This was the friend he'd lost.

 

He was afraid still though that Medivh would say no, so the grin on Anduin's face remained a little twisted.

 

He was forever feeling like he was trying to grasp onto minnows in a stream when it came to those who were dear to him.

 

He was sick of it.

 

#

 

Khadgar raised an eyebrow and gave Anduin the ghost of a smile; he was just glad, right now, to have Medivh back among them. He would question it later, when their friend wasn't standing in front of them alive and well and untainted by the fel.

 

"I suppose a visit couldn't hurt," Medivh said, though he looked anxious about the idea of seeing Taria in person again. Despite the fact that he'd spoken with her before, the fact still didn't escape him that he'd been responsible for the death of her husband, the loss of her children's' father.

 

Part of him was afraid that he'd never escape the guilt that took over every time she looked at him. Every time he went into a room where he once would have expected to see Llane.

 

"Should I port us? Are you...are you well, after...?" Khadgar started to ask with concern, and Medivh nodded.

 

"I'm well, but not nearly at full strength. I'm just beginning to recover my powers. It will take a long while before I return to the level I once was," he explained.

 

#

 

Anduin smiled in relief that Medivh didn't even put up an argument.

 

He stepped back and squeezed Khadgar's shoulder lightly. "Port us, please," he asked, then with a wry glance at both his friends, added, "You both know how much I enjoy it."

 

He blinked at the two of them though, and laughed suddenly, realizing something about all three of them standing in that room together.

 

"Look at us," he said. "Each one of us have died, and yet here we are."

 

And there it was, underneath the confusion and the lingering anxiety; a sense of elation.

 

Somehow, despite everything, not everyone had been lost.

 

#

 

"I don't think that's a club anyone else will be interested in joining," Khadgar pointed out with a laugh, not needing to speak or even draw sigils in order to focus his energy on Stormwind. His body and mind were attuned to it–it was home.

 

As the portal appeared without an incantation or rune, Medivh raised an eyebrow at Anduin–his young Guardian had come far since that conflict at Karazhan.

 

Khadgar's eyes flared with the arcane for just a moment as the circle of runes appeared around him, and he drew the energy into his fist, holding it at the ready with ease. "Step in," he said, smirking at Anduin; he knew Anduin hated porting, so he always tried to make it go quickly and smooth for him. Medivh, of course, stepped into the circle without hesitation.

 

#

 

Anduin raised his eyebrows at Medivh, grinning proudly at him. Medivh knew Khadgar as a nervous apprentice; he wanted him to know him as Anduin's partner. He wanted the three of them to be friends.

 

He met Khadgar's smirk with an eye roll. Bracing himself and shooting an irritated look at Medivh for, well, being himself, Anduin stepped into Khadgar's magic and scrunched his eyes shut.

 

It never really helped of course.

 

#

 

Khadgar released the energy, and the portal snapped them straight through to Stormwind, as smoothly as Medivh had once done–and into the same throne room, much to the annoyance of the guards standing watch with weapons at the ready.

 

Dion was one of them; he immediately went for his sword, and though he paused when he saw Khadgar and Anduin, he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword when he saw who was with them. He looked from Anduin and Khadgar to Medivh with a suspicious look.

 

"It's alright, Dion," Khadgar said, holding up a hand.

 

#

 

Anduin clutched at his stomach and squinted his eyes open, but stepped forward to wave down the guards.

 

Taria rose from the throne, and actually stumbled when she took a step forward. "Anduin?" She queried, looking at little lost as she panned her gaze between them all.

 

Anduin straightened, shaking off the lingering nausea. "Taria, it's all right. It is no trick or glamour."

 

"But how is this possible?" She took a few more steps forward.

 

Anduin tossed a smile back at Medivh. "His mother," he said. "Aegwynn."

 

She came hastening the rest of the way down with short, quick steps. Anduin squeezed her arm as she stepped beside him. She took one last, disbelieving look at Anduin's face, then threw her arms around Medivh, kissing both his cheeks.

 

"Medivh," she said, with tears in her eyes. "My dear friend. Youve come back to us. How? How did she manage a miracle?"

 

#

 

Medivh hugged Taria tightly, glad to be able to do so as himself–when he could look her in the eye and know she was looking back and seeing him, and not the younger Guardian.

 

"She had evidently been preparing a spell for months. Even while we were dealing with the fel," he explained, stepping back to hold Taria at arm's length and study her with a smile. "I'm just glad that you and your children are okay, Taria."

 

He didn't need to apologize for Llane; he'd already apologized, and she knew the depths of his sorrow over that. 

 

Khadgar glanced at Anduin and smiled brightly; he thought it was the best coincidence that this happened to also be Anduin's birthday. He couldn't have asked for a better present than getting one of his best friends brought back to him.

 

Khadgar's present would pale in comparison, but he still thought it would be something Anduin would like. He'd better, considering it took a lot of sneaking around and arranging transportation for the present itself to get here secretly.

 

#

 

Taria's smile was tinged with sadness, but she stroked Medivh's cheek familiarly. "It is so good to have you back," she said emotionally.

 

She turned to Anduin. He smiled at her and bounced on the balls of his feet. 

 

They still had people they would miss, and not be able to replace.

 

But it did not diminish the blessing of the people he had with him in that room.

 

Taria raised an eyebrow at him, then turned to Medivh. "We'll talk later, you and I, about where you planning to live," she said to him. "But for now, if I can steal you away, Medivh, I have things I'd like to speak with you about in private."

 

She winked lightly at Khadgar. "I'll see you in perhaps an hour, Guardian?" 

 

She took Medivh by the elbow and led him out of he room.

 

#

 

Medivh readily followed Taria out of the room, and Khadgar gave Anduin a hopeful look. "Take a walk with me?" he asked.

 

He had to kill time for that hour without losing track of Anduin–couldn't have the man missing his own birthday party. He knew that Varian and his sister were already down at the house with Thelae and a couple of guards, decorating for it; Khadgar found their excitement infectious, after a while.

 

And it was about time they had an event not overshadowed by loss.

 

#

 

"Actually," Anduin grinned, "That sounds great. Come with me to our room first, though."

 

He knew that later, the shock of having Medivh back might hit him more strongly, but at that point it was less strange than having him as a spirit in Khadgar's own body. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps he'd reached the point where anything seemed possible, and nothing could surprise him. 

 

He hoped he could still surprise Khadgar, though.

 

He led the way back to their bedroom, and he went to his desk and pulled out a small wooden box. The top was inlaid in gold with Stormwind's lion crest. 

 

Anduin cocked his head and gave it to Khadgar, a faint blush tinging the warrior's cheeks. He looked excited despite his embarrassment. 

 

"Go on," Anduin said.

 

#

 

Khadgar looked confused, but he followed Anduin back to the bedroom; his confusion only grew when Anduin handed him the small box. He looked at it and back up at Anduin with a perplexed look, hesitating a moment before he opened the lid.

 

There were three things set in the soft fabric in the box; the first was a gold pen on some kind of chain, leagues fancier than the quills Khadgar usually used to write with. The second was some kind of small gold cylinder engraved with the sigil of Stormwind, too small to be a case for a scroll–

 

  
–and the third was a ring. It reminded him of a smaller version of the one handed down from king to king here in Stormwind; gold, with the lion of Stormwind engraved on each side and a bright blue stone set in the middle.

 

He was speechless for a few long moments; he couldn't remember the last time he'd been given a gift at all, let alone one so elaborate. He touched the blue stone set in the ring gently, as if he'd break it accidentally, and then he looked up at Anduin, looking a bit shocked.

 

"I...I don't know what to say," he admitted with a laugh at his own awkwardness, though he was smiling the whole time. "I mean, thank you. _Thank you_. What is this _for_?"

 

He wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve a gift like this; not that he was complaining.

 

#

 

Anduin beamed at Khadgar, still nervous and unsure whether the mage liked the gifts or if he was just being polite.

 

He took the pen from him, and pressed a small notch on the side. The whole thing collapsed in on itself until it was as thin as a twig and shorter than a thumb. "The Dwarves made this," he said, smiling. "For when we travel, " he explained.

 

Next he took the cylinder from Khadgar, and unscrewed it, shaking out a few pieces of charcoal. He was less sure about this gift–as Khadgar's powers got stronger, he seemed to need to use runes less and less. "For your spells?" He posed it uncertainly. 

 

But the last gift he took from Khadgar's hand, turning it over and making the blue stone, blue like the glow of Khadgar's magic, catch the light. 

 

Anduin ducked his head. "I had hoped," he said softly. "That you would accept this as a token of commitment." He looked up to catch Khadgar's eyes. "A lifetime commitment, if you will have me." He smiled at Khadgar. "Marriage, if you want it. But we don't need to do anything like that, if you don't want..." Anduin trailed off, realizing he was babbling. 

 

He suddenly felt like he was being foolish. Khadgar was twenty. He was older, he thought about things like this. Swallowing around his nerves, he pressed the ring into Khadgar's palm. "Either way," he finished, "I'd like you to have it. For everything you have done for me."

 

#

 

Khadgar almost thought he was still dreaming, somehow. But the ring felt real in his hand, the blue stone catching the light just so, and he felt his chest tighten as he slid the ring onto his finger.

 

He set the box down on the desk and then threw his arms around Anduin's neck, pulling him into an enthusiastic kiss. "Of course I'll have you," he said, barely breaking the kiss to get the words out. He was smiling as he kissed Anduin again, trying to say thank you again without babbling himself, because he didn't even know how he _could_ thank Anduin for this.

 

It was so _much_ , and if you told him a year ago that he would be accepting a ring from Anduin Lothar, he definitely would've laughed it off. Now, he couldn't think of anything better.

 

#

 

Anduin sagged into Khadgar's hug in relief. A moment later he got his arms under the mage and picked him up, spinning him around once, laughing. 

 

He gave what he was sure to be a disgruntled Khadgar a deep kiss before he could protest. 

 

When they broke apart for air, Anduin grinned down at him. "Good," he said, simply. He lifted Khadgar's hand, turning it from side to side. Seeing his ring there, knowing that now everyone who met the mage would know exactly who he was promised to, made Anduin's chest warm, and something settle in his soul like a puzzle piece clicking into place.

 

There had been many times in his life when he'd thought there would be nothing after; that all hope had been lost; that all love had died.

 

It would never cease to bring him wonder how wrong he had been.

 

"I love you, spell–chucker," he said with another grin. "Did you want to take that walk?"

 

#

 

Khadgar laughed. "Love you too," he said, giving Anduin a peck on the cheek. "Yes, let's. Someone is waiting on you," he said, gabbing Anduin's hand and leading him out of the room. 

 

He figured that once they got closer Anduin would guess at where they were going–but it wouldn't give away the surprise. 

 

No, going in and finding everyone waiting for him in his old house would be the surprise. 

 

#

 

Anduin dutifully but suspiciously followed Khadgar out of his room, through the halls, and finally out of the castle itself.

 

"What do you mean, someone is waiting for me?" He suddenly asked, as they traversed paths Anduin hadn't walked in the better part of a year. 

 

He trusted Khadgar, but he had a sinking feeling as he realized that it was no accident or coincidence that had them nearing his home in Old Town in the center of Stormwind. 

 

He recalled Taria saying something about seeing him in an hour, and he began to get a vague idea that she might have had something to do with their 'walk'. He tugged gently on Khadgar's hand. 

 

"Khadgar," he said, his voice low. "I know whatever it is, your intentions are good. But I haven't been back to where you're taking me since Callan died. I'm not sure I'm ready for this." 

 

#

 

Khadgar stopped and turned to Anduin, a sympathetic look on his face. Ignoring any passers–by, he grabbed Anduin's other hand too, and then kissed him gently.

 

"I know," he said, his heart heavy as he remembered that moment–escorting the king to safety, looking down, and seeing Anduin separated from Callan by a barrier of lightning.

 

There was a reason he'd never cast spells that made use of lightning around Anduin.

 

"I know," he said again, and then he smiled and tugged at the man's hand. "Trust me, Anduin."

 

#

 

Anduin gave Khadgar a weak smile, then nodded. "Always."

 

He followed him the rest of the way to the stoop of his old house. With one last, wary look at Khadgar, he searched in his money pouch for the key he always carried, and put it in the lock. Drawing in a deep breath, he turned it, and pushed open the door. 

 

#

 

Khadgar stayed close to Anduin, putting a hand on the small of his back when he went to unlock the door–

 

–and the first thing that happened was the young prince and princess leapt forward and grabbed onto his legs with a yell of "Surprise!"

 

Khadgar grinned–he'd somehow expected that much. He figured it would be so, so much easier than walking into an empty, abandoned house that held only memories–right now, it held life. And family.

 

He grinned at Anduin. "Happy birthday, Anduin," he said, though the words felt a little odd.

 

#

 

Anduin actually would have stumbled backward in surprise, except Khadgar had kept a steadying hold on him.

 

He had to go over the calendar dates in his head before realizing that yes, it was actually his birthday. He cast a wide-eyed look at Khadgar, before recovering himself to grin down at Adariall and Varian. He ruffled their hair in tandem. "Did you plan this?" He asked incredulously. 

 

Varian beamed up at him. "Yes, we did! And Khadgar and mother helped, too. We told him to say that, by the way."

 

"What?" Anduin asked, bemused.

 

"'Happy birthday'," Adariall explained. "He said he never had one. I suppose mages don't celebrate birthdays? Isn't that odd? But his is in August, so you'll have to talk to us next so we can plan it together."

 

"Shh!" Varian said, loudly. "It's supposed to be a surprise."

 

"Oh, I will, will I?" Anduin chuckled, but cast an assessing glance toward Khadgar. "No birthdays, eh? We will have to remedy that." He gestured to the room, and was taken aback to see Dion and Thelae, along with Taria and Medivh, all looking like the cat that had eaten the cream. He shot them all a bewildered smile. 

 

The rest of the house looked–dusted. Clean. Not full of ghosts and cobwebs, but full of people, and life.

 

It still ached, looking at them and not seeing Callan's face among them, but he loved this house, and it held the memories of his family in it. They didn't haunt him, now, but they did deserve to be honored. 

 

Perhaps it was time for him to finally embrace the past, and let it live alongside him, instead of trying to bury it as he had been doing. Yes, the house was full of echoes, but it had been full of love, and Anduin knew then that it could be again. 

 

"Live here with me," he muttered, impetuously, over his shoulder at Khadgar. "At least some of the time."

 

#

 

Khadgar shushed the kids. "Come on now, this isn't about me," he said with a smirk before he registered the question Anduin had asked him–and he blinked in surprise.

 

Anduin hadn't wanted to come back here, just a few minutes ago, and now he wanted Khadgar to live here with him?

 

"If...if you want me to," he said, obviously taken aback by the question, and by then Varian was dragging his uncle into the house and over to Taria–who stared for a moment at the ring on Khadgar's hand and then gave Anduin a _look_.

 

"Sit down and close your eyes. I have to get your present," Khadgar said to Anduin, which wasn't difficult, considering the kids were just as excited about the present and were already dragging Anduin toward the couch.

 

Khadgar went out back and gathered up the two Nightsaber cubs from their pen in the backyard–one black with grey stripes, another a dark purple with a hint of silver to its fur–and carried them inside. Satisfied that Anduin had his eyes shut, Khadgar proceeded to set both small cats right in his lap.

 

#

 

Anduin let out what could only be termed a squeak as claws went several inopportune places. His eyes shot open and then widened.

 

He blinked back tears. He lifted both kittens in his hands. They looked back at him, green eyes looking at his face with much the same awestruck expression that he was giving them. One began batting at his long hair playfully, and the second followed.

 

Anduin looked past their fuzzy ears to where Khadgar was looking so proud of himself that he might explode any moment. His face broke out into a wide grin. "Thank you," he said, first to Khadgar, then to the room at large.

 

Taria was grinning also, and it warmed Anduin's heart. He couldn't remember the last time he saw his sister smile like that. 

 

"Thank you, everyone," Anduin said, after a couple attempts at clearing his throat.

 

The children were crowding him, both enamored with the baby Nightsabers. Anduin knocked foreheads with both cats before passing off one each to his niece and nephew. He stood and took Khadgar by the shoulders, then kissed him in a way that was definitely inappropriate for an audience. 

 

"I don't know what I did to deserve you," he murmured against Khadgar's lips, happily. 

 

Medivh let out a low whistle, followed by the laughter of everyone else in the room–Taria, Dion, Thelae. The kids were giggling behind their hands, whispering to each other good-naturedly. Not caring, Anduin grinned at them. 

 

After all, they were family.

 

#

 

"Thelae will be showing you how they're trained, considering Dion proposed to her yesterday. She'll be staying with us a while," Khadgar said with a smirk, returning the kiss even as he blushed a little at the attention.

 

He didn't mind though, really. All his life he'd been alone, and assumed he always would be. The fact that he had these people here now that he could call his family–that alone was more than he ever could have hoped for.

 

"I love you," he said, just soft enough that Anduin would be the only one who heard.

 

They'd been through so much, lost and gained so much, and they were still here. Still together.

 

He couldn't have hoped for more. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> THE END...
> 
> ...but it's really the beginning :)


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